


The Foxhole Ficlets

by exyking



Category: All For the Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Andriel angst, Angst, Angst and Fluff, Begging, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Clubbing, Coming In Pants, Coming Untouched, Dirty Dancing, Dirty Talk, Double Penetration, Fluff and Smut, Frottage, Gen, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, Lap Sex, Lapdance, M/M, Mild D/s, Multiple Orgasms, Nightmares, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Overstimulation, Panic Attacks, Possessive Behavior, Praise Kink, Restraints, Road Trip, Subspace, Tumblr Prompt, Twinyard escapades, non-explicit mentions of sex, slight exhibitionism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-01
Updated: 2017-05-20
Packaged: 2018-08-18 20:12:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 24,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8174539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exyking/pseuds/exyking
Summary: Andreil/Kandreil based on prompts.Check the notes for info about the content of each chapter.





	1. I'm Only Human | Andreil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neil didn’t dance. It was due to a multitude of reasons, but mostly because he simply didn’t want to. He preferred sitting alone in the deafening roar of the club with Andrew by his side, trading whiskey and shots when they felt like it. Neil lived for the point in the night when Andrew felt comfortable enough to put his hands on Neil in public. Just a hand on his thigh under the table, but more than Neil would have expected from him months ago. It was possessive, intimate, something new and exciting shared between them.
> 
> Eventually, though, Neil wanted more. 
> 
> That was the only reason why the idea came to him, and why he actually considered it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was born from an anonymous tumblr prompt, wherein said anon asked for Nicky teaching Neil to twerk and practising on Andrew. This is the monster that prompt created. 
> 
> Tags: Lap dance, lap sex, clubbing, frottage, slight exhibitionism, coming in pants, handjobs, dirty dancing
> 
> Title comes from the song 'Never Be like You', I listened to the [cry wolf cover](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2TdiNs2bE9A) on repeat while I tackled this.

When the Monsters went to Eden’s, Neil and Andrew sat at the table and stayed there. Usually they were joined for most of the night by a steadily more drunken Kevin and an increasingly bitter Aaron, but eventually Nicky would manage to drag them both onto the dance floor. Kevin wasn’t a dancer, but the alcohol loosened his limbs and Neil had seen him grinding against multiple attractive people in their time there. Aaron never strayed far from Nicky, but even he seemed to enjoy being free with his motions with copious amounts of alcohol in his system.

Neil didn’t dance. It was due to a multitude of reasons, but mostly because he simply didn’t want to. He preferred sitting alone in the deafening roar of the club with Andrew by his side, trading whiskey and shots when they felt like it. Neil lived for the point in the night when Andrew felt comfortable enough to put his hands on Neil in public. Just a hand on his thigh under the table, but more than Neil would have expected from him months ago. It was possessive, intimate, something new and exciting shared between them.

Eventually, though, Neil wanted more. 

That was the only reason why the idea came to him, and why he actually considered it.

It was Nicky’s fault to begin with. Erik was in town for the week, on a break from work, and had come to Eden’s with them. Nicky, as overexcited as a puppy, had downed a concerning amount of alcohol very quickly, and had dragged his blond German boyfriend down to the dance floor to treat him to a Nicky shaped surprised. Neil had watched, fascinated, as he engaged Erik in the most sinful, barely legal dance Neil had ever witnessed.

He backed himself up and bent himself over, arching his back in a way that would seem more appropriate in a strip club and rolled his hips in a long, slow motion. Erik dragged a hand down his spine reverently and Nicky began to sway his hips in time with the beat. Others around them turned to watch, and there were hoots and cat calls as Nicky quite literally proceeded to perform the approximate equivalent of clothed sex with his boyfriend. Neil knew enough about modern culture from Allison and Nicky to know that that was some kind of ‘twerking’. Though he couldn’t for the life of him remember when twerking had become ‘grinding your ass against your boyfriend’s dick’.

Aaron had scowled in disgust from their table, and Kevin seemed embarrassed on their behalf. Andrew though, regarded them for a very brief half a moment with what Neil assumed was a mild curiosity; not in Nicky, nor in his boyfriend, but in the strange, highly skilled, contorting dance they were doing. It was fleeting and quickly discarded, but it was there.

That look was what had started it.

That night, after they returned to the house in Columbia, after Andrew promptly returned to their room and passed out for the night with Neil’s mumbled “I’m gonna stay up for a bit” following him, Neil had buried his pride and gone to Nicky.

They had been in the den, mid-make out, Nicky straddling Erik’s lap. Neil would have died in embarrassment at any other time, but he had drunk enough tonight to do this. Thinking about what the fruits of his discomfort could bear was enough to get him to do this.

“Nicky?” the two looked up at him.

“Hey Neil” Nicky’s smile was lazy and warm, his voice less slurred now than it had been before.

“I wanted to ask you something.”

Erik had begun kissing Nicky’s neck, ignoring Neil and distracting the man in his lap. “Hmmm?”

Neil couldn’t believe he was about to do this.

“That thing you were doing tonight, that… dancing. Could you- could you teach me?”

Nicky’s eyes flew open, and he nearly fell off of Erik’s lap. Erik managed to grab him in time, but he too swivelled around to level a shocked stare at Neil.

“You what?” Nicky squeaked.

Neil swallowed down his steadily growing regret and pushed on.

“I want to learn to dance like that.”

Nicky’s eyes quite literally bulged, and Erik dissolved into laughter. Neil’s cheeks burned in embarrassment.

“Well fuck Neil, you can’t just say shit like that.”

Neil’s face fell and he kicked himself. Of course it was a stupid idea to go to Nicky for this, he couldn’t just simply go to people and ask for this kind of stuff. He hoped Andrew never found out about it, because he was going to kill him.

Nicky saw his expression and immediately exclaimed: “No- No! Neil no I didn’t mean that- I meant that it took me by surprise is all!” Nicky was all but falling off of Erik’s lap in his haste to reach out and reassure Neil.

“Hell yeah I’ll teach you Neil, I mean with a great ass comes great responsibility” He winked dramatically and turned back to Erik, “so how about it hot stuff, should we show Neil how it’s done?”

Erik glanced at Neil, who was standing rooted to the spot, and then turned back to Nicky.

“Alright babe,” he said. Nicky’s grin lit up the room.

 

The next weekend when they returned to Columbia, Neil was nervous. All week he had been thinking about this moment, picturing how it would happen, practicing when he was alone in the apartment or could steal a moment in the room, sometimes with an embarrassingly enthusiastic Nicky’s supervision. He had intimately acquainted himself with a chair in a way he would never have expected. 

He would have died of embarrassment if anyone had found him, but he was pleased to see it had become easier; his movements were more fluid and confident, which would hopefully be the difference between mortifying failure and success. Imagining said success was enough to keep him going.

In the dark club, deafened by its cacophony of noise, Neil watched as first Nicky and Erik (who left not before Nicky could turn and grin encouragingly at Neil) and then Aaron and Kevin departed from the table to their respective destinations. His heart had jumped to his throat and he felt nearly dizzy with the thought of what he was about to do, but he threw back his shot, turned to Andrew and leant in close enough to whisper in his ear, careful not to touch.

“Dance with me,” he said.

Andrew raised an eyebrow. “Why would I do that?” he asked.

“Because I want to dance, and I think you’d rather not have a stranger come up and try to grope me while you’re sitting here brooding.” Andrew regarded him blankly, but Neil suspected the glint in his eyes was one of curiosity.

Neil stood and offered his hand, a smirk playing across his lips. Andrew took his time finishing his whiskey before he allowed Neil to take his hand and lead him to the dance floor.

As usual, Andrew’s glare parted the crowds and allowed them to pass, though unfortunately it seemed to draw more attention once people noticed Neil too. By the time Neil stopped and turned to Andrew, tugging him slightly closer through the hand he held, they had attracted the attention of a small crowd.

“Is this ok?” Neil asked, because as much as he wanted to do this, as much as he could care less about the writhing mass of a crowd with the protective presence of Andrew beside him, if Andrew was uncomfortable he would withdraw.

“Shut up Josten.”

“Can I touch you?” Neil pressed on.

Andrew regarded him, eyebrow quirked in challenge. “No.” He said. 

Neil tried to hide his disappointment.

“I think there are other ways for you to demonstrate what you’ve been learning.”

Neil’s eyes widened as he took Andrew in, realizing what the blond was suggesting. “You know?”

“You’re not exactly subtle, Neil.”

“You didn’t say anything.”

“That would have defeated the purpose,” Andrew dropped the hand that had been holding Neil’s crossing his arms over his chest “I want to see if that ass is good for anything other than getting beat.”

Neil’s cheeks burned and his heart raced, a mixture of excitement and nervousness heightening his senses. “You want this?” he asked.

Andrew’s eyes burned into him, “show me what you can do.”

Neil did.

He had danced only few times in his life before this past week, but even for his lack of experience Neil had always enjoyed getting lost in rhythm and beat. He gave himself up to the music, moving in time with the song and allowing his body and limbs to be free. Some of his movements he emulated from what he had seen others do, things that were hot and skilled, things, he hoped, that would look good. He closed his eyes and threw his head back, running his hands through his hair and beginning to sway his hips.

As the song progressed, as the music got louder and headier, the beat more intense, Neil’s movements matched it. His hips swayed, his ass grinding with the beat. As his confidence grew his actions grew bolder, he bent over before Andrew in the same way Nicky had done, the same way he had taught him, bending his knees and rolling his body upwards in a smooth motion right before Andrew’s crotch. He didn’t touch, that was the rules, but he teased. If Andrew was half as affected by this as Neil was, the ghosting sensation of Neil’s ass grinding inches away from his cock would have been torture.

As he rose back to standing, a presence crowded up behind him, a hand snaking out to wrap around his abdomen as another grabbed his hip in a vice. Andrew’s breathing was slightly ragged. Neil smiled and leaned into him.

“Yes, or no?” Andrew asked, his voice a hiss.

“Yes,” was his answer.

They began to move together, their hips swaying with the beat, grinding against one another shamelessly. The hand that gripped Neil’s hip began to travel upward, splaying out over his chest as Andrew leaned forward to press kisses and bites against the back of his neck, holding him tightly. Neil grinned and tipped his head back over Andrew’s shoulder, reaching one hand up and over them to tug at Andrew’s hair as the other gripped his forearm.

The world narrowed to this; to Andrew’s arms holding him, to his lips on Neil’s skin, to the hard press of his clothed erection into Neil’s ass as they grinded together. 

Neil tilted his head, seeking out Andrew’s lips, pushing back into him as they were claimed. He moaned raggedly into Andrew’s mouth, as the hand that wrapped around his abdomen began to press lower.

The kiss was all consuming, and it left Neil wanting, needing more. He broke away, with great effort, and turned in Andrew’s arms.

“Can we take this somewhere more private?” He asked, his voice low and strained. Andrew’s eyes flashed, and he grabbed Neil’s hand and began to lead him away.

Having worked here at one point in his life, and having fucked Roland frequently here otherwise, Andrew knew how to get access to the private, lockable rooms in the staff area. Andrew just strolled purposefully through the doors and Neil trailed along dumbly behind him, and ignored anyone who gave him a second glance.

They ended up in what looked like a storage room, though it was spacious and had several chairs stacked in a corner with shelving on the other. Andrew promptly dropped Neil’s hand, walked over to the shortest stack of chairs, pulled one off and proceeded to place it in the centre of the room and sit.  
His eyes were filled with hunger when they fell upon Neil. He shivered under the weight of it.

“Well?” Andrew’s voice was deep and smooth, cutting through the distant din of the music with ease.

“Well what?” Neil asked, his throat dry.

“Are you gonna show me what else you’ve been learning?”

The blood rushing through Neil’s ears was deafening, the thundering of his heart was dizzying. He was so ready for this.

He advanced on Andrew slowly, stopping just before the chair and leaning forward, resting his hands on the back beside Andrew’s shoulders. Their lips were inches away, the air they breathed was shared.

“Can I touch you?” Neil asked, “yes, or no?”

“Yes.”

Neil crowded closer, straddling Andrew’s lap but holding himself up so that they didn’t touch. Their faces were still close, their eyes still burning into each other.

Neil began to move.

He rolled his hips back and forth in long, slow drags. He leant back, one hand holding the chair back to keep him up, to give Andrew a better view, the other splaying across his own chest and dragging slowly down his abdomen. He teased Andrew with the sight, biting his lip suggestively.

One of Andrew’s arm curled around his back, resting in the dip above his ass, the other swatted Neil’s hand away and splayed out over his abs.  

“Fucking tease,” he said.

Neil grinned and, with great deliberation, pressed his ass against the bulge in Andrew’s jeans. Andrew hissed, his grip tightening, his jaw clenching. He was lost somewhere between glaring at Neil and conceding to the pleasure of it. He was beautiful like this, his face open with pleasure, traces of that crushing apathy brushed momentarily away.

It felt so good to be this close, to grind his ass into Andrew in time with the echoing beat, to feel Andrew’s arms holding him. He threw his head back and rolled his body again, relishing the moment. Then, he stood up. Andrew growled at him, but let him go.

Once he was standing Neil turned around, bending over before Andrew and presenting his ass. In the way that Nicky had taught him, he swayed his hips inches away from Andrew’s touch, though it felt like miles. He wanted nothing more than to climb on top of Andrew and rut against him to their mutual completion, but Andrew had asked for a show. Neil was going to give him one.

He stood up straight and arched his back, looking over his shoulder at Andrew and running a hand up his ass suggestively.

“Fuck Josten,” Andrew hissed, then suddenly his hands were on Neil’s hips and Neil was dragged backwards.

He landed on Andrew’s lap, back to his chest, a mimicry of their embrace on the dance floor.

“You like that?” Neil asked, writhing on Andrew’s lap for friction.

“Shut your fucking mouth Josten,” was his reply.

“Touch me,” Neil said, breathlessly, arching against Andrew to drop his head back on the blonde’s shoulder, and to grind his ass harder. “I want you Andrew.”

Andrew obliged, growling in that deliciously low timbre and palming his hand over the front of Neil’s sinfully tight jeans. Neil gasped at the delicious friction, but it wasn’t enough. 

“Andrew- Andrew,” was his hopeless cry, begging in the only words he knew.

The buttons and fly of his jeans were undone with an agonizing slowness, Andrew’s payback for Neil’s teasing. By the time they were down, all the sensations in the world were narrowed to Andrew’s hand snaking down the front of his pants and underwear, gripping his hard cock. Neil hissed at the contact jerking upwards into Andrew’s grip.

“Fuck yourself into my fist,” Andrew told him. Neil keened at the words, Andrew’s sinful voice as arousing as his touch. Neil obliged.

He thrust upwards into Andrew’s unyielding fist, grinding himself down on the seated man’s cock on every pass. His movements unconsciously synced with the music, and together their motions became some sort of dance. Andrew’s other arm was around his chest, his palm flat against the hard plane there, holding Neil steady to keep his balance. His face was buried in Neil’s exposed neck, kissing and biting the flesh there, worrying it between his lips to create a line of dark bruises. His breathing was ragged, and beyond the music, it was the only thing Neil could hear.

The pleasure of it was all consuming.

He finished too soon, one final thrust into Andrew’s grip, his body shuddering with the force of his climax. He keened loudly, closing his eyes and gasping for breath. 

Even as his body went slack, Andrew kept him moving. The hand gripping his now spent cock moved to his hips, grabbing them tightly so that he could grind Neil’s pliant body back against him.

“Yes, Andrew, yes” Neil managed, encouraging the blond to take his pleasure. Neil helped as much as he could, though he felt boneless. He wanted to make Andrew come, he wanted the other man to find his release from Neil’s ass against him. It didn’t take long.

When Andrew came he buried his face in Neil’s neck and shuddered, silent but for the rasping breaths. Neil smiled softly at him, raising one hand to stroke his hair, whispering words of encouragement and praise. Eventually Andrew told him to shut up. Neil liked to think there was an undercurrent of fondness there.

“You came in your pants,” Neil teased him. “I didn’t realize I was that good.”

Andrew pushed him off his lap, though he watched carefully to make sure Neil didn’t stumble with his post-orgasm weakened legs. His face was blank and his stare was returned to that usual apathetic hardness. Any sign that he had recently come abolished but for his disheveled hair and clothing.

“Next time you feel like dancing, you can fuck off and find someone else to grind against,” Andrew told him.

“Right, because you’d just love to watch me do that to someone else. You think that possessive streak you have’s gonna let me do that?” Neil asked, with a smirk.

Andrew growled, “shut your fucking mouth Josten.”

Neil said nothing more, but he couldn’t resist the urge to lean forward and, after the affirmative ‘yes’, press his lips to Andrew’s.

When they returned to the table, they were greeting by a scowling Aaron, a too intoxicated to give a fuck Kevin, a confused Erik and a whooping Nicky. It was several weeks before the cousin would let either of them live this one down.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reblog/like this on tumblr here: [x](http://exyking.tumblr.com/post/151176051968/hunnnnnn-write-neil-learning-to-twerk-from-nicky)
> 
> Send me all your filthy (nor not) prompts here: [x](http://exyking.tumblr.com/ask)
> 
> You never know, you might get your own little 3k monster.
> 
> Comments and kudos = life.


	2. All You | Kandreil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Neil,” Andrew prompted, raising one hand to turn Neil’s face to meet his. He waited until Neil opened his eyes, the blue of them burning with lust as they met Andrew’s. “I want to fuck you,” he said, and Neil shivered.
> 
> “Yes.” 
> 
> “I want Kevin to fuck you too.” 
> 
> At that, Neil’s brow furrowed, turning from Andrew to look at the larger man below him. Kevin looked up to meet their gazes, his eyes landing questioningly on Andrew as he began to decipher his meaning.
> 
> “Both of us, at the same time?” He asked.
> 
> “Yes,” Andrew replied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the anon who asked for Kandreil Double penetration with Neil as the bottom. Bless you, this was a joy and a struggle to write, but i'm proud so i hope you all enjoy it.
> 
> TAGS: Anal fingering, Double Penetration, Praise Kink, Overstimulation, Coming Untouched, Begging, Fluff and Smut, Dirty Talk
> 
> (Note, all chapter titles are gonna be from songs I binge listen to while writing, so have some [Acid Rain](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nxg4C365LbQ) by Lorn

Kevin Day was a man unsparing in his emotions. When he felt something, you knew about it. When he wanted something, you knew about that too. He was so unlike Andrew is so many ways that they almost perfectly defined the concept of polar opposites. Neil loved them both, for their differences and despite them.

Andrew was the calm one. His touches had always been sparing, exercising caution, restraint, control. Neil liked that about Andrew though, he liked the preciseness with which he did things, knowing that Andrew would never go to far, or allow to be pushed too far. He never did anything unless he absolutely wanted to, so it made the touches he gave and allowed sweeter for it. 

Kevin was the opposite. In Kevin he loved his openness, his frankness. His touches were easy, casual and often, his kisses hot and searing and demanding, unafraid to push and pull at Neil, unafraid to rough him up a little. He liked that for Kevin intimacy was fierce and passionate, comforting and reassuring and grounding. For a man who had been starved of it for most of his life, he took to it with a desperation that Neil supposed he could understand.

Neil also liked that Kevin would pick him up as easily as if he weighed nothing and push him hard against a wall, wrapping Neil’s thighs around his waist and devouring his lips with the kind of intensity usually reserved for Exy alone. Neil liked that Kevin didn’t need prompting, that when an idea came to him he simply acted on it. If he did something Neil wasn’t comfortable with he would stop, immediately and completely, but unlike the way that Andrew would always withdraw, he would simply acknowledge what had occurred and move on. Neil liked his resilience, his determination to _be_ good for Neil, to _make_ it good for Neil. Neil liked how he lavished attention on him, how his pleasure seemed to come from Neil’s own.

Neil liked that Andrew liked to watch.

It was how they found themselves alone in the apartment, Neil backed up against the wall with Kevin standing over him, kissing desperately and grinding against him, while Andrew sat on the dresser and smoked.

They had just won a game, one of the hardest in their season so far, and Neil and Kevin were buzzing with adrenaline, tearing at each other desperately to relieve the all consuming heat that burned within them.

Though he betrayed no sign of it, Neil thought that even Andrew was a little affected by it, having shut down the goal with a near manic intensity upon Neil’s request.

He was halfway through his first cigarette by the time Kevin finally managed to tear the shirt and shorts from Neil, flinging them haphazardly away, before he bent and grabbed him under the ass and lifted. Neil curled his arms around Kevin’s neck, tugging at the dark mop of hair on his head. He wrapped his thighs around Kevin’s hips and dug his heels into his ass, leveraging himself to rut against the taller boy. With nothing but his boxers between him and Kevin’s pants, the texture was exquisite.

“Fuck Kevin,” he moaned, throwing his head back. Kevin immediately took advantage of the exposed skin, kissing and biting and licking until Neil’s neck was bruised.

After a moment of allowing this, Andrew spoke: “Move to the bed,” he said, his voice inflectionless.

After a last, lingering kiss, Kevin gripped Neil tighter and turned around. Cradled in Kevin’s strong arms Neil was at no risk of falling, and so let himself be carried over to the bed while he did his best to distract Kevin with his tongue and lips.

Kevin placed him firmly on the mattress and crowded over him till he fell flat on his back. The taller boy propped himself up over Neil’s prone form, deliberately holding his body away and out of contact, even as his lips kissed and claimed. Neil tried to arch up into Kevin, but strong hands held him down.

“Greedy boy,” was the harsh rasp of Kevin’s voice in his ear. 

“I want you,” Neil keened in response, “ _Kevin_.”

Neil had long perfected the art of begging without using the word please. Please was a word that would never pass his lips with Andrew so close, not in this context, not like this. Neil had other ways to beg for what he wanted.

“Kevin I need you, I need you inside me. Open me up Kev- want to feel you…”

Kevin cursed, and closed the distance between their bodies. Neil pushed up, hands scrabbling for purchase on Kevin’s muscled back, pulling him closer, closer, closer, letting his mouth be possessed utterly by Kevin’s frantic kisses.

“Kevin, sit against the headboard.” Andrew’s command cut through the quiet of the room, making them both jump. 

It took only a handful of seconds for Kevin to come back to himself and rush to obey. When Andrew commanded him in that cold, hard voice, he was helpless to resist. He wanted to be good for Andrew, to do everything the blond wanted, to make him as happy as he made Kevin. He wanted Andrew to claim and control and posses him, even as he wanted the same of Neil.

Kevin propped himself up against the strong headboard, legs slightly parted. He was still dressed in his training shorts and a muscle tee, only slightly less than what Andrew was wearing but a great deal more than the boxer clad Neil.

Andrew lit up another cigarette. “Neil, why don’t you remove Kevin’s clothes".

Neil jumped to his task, crawling forward to straddle Kevin’s lap so he could better reach his shirt.

Andrew watched him as he worked, marvelling at the difference in their size, though he himself was shorter than Neil. It seemed ridiculous, the way Kevin dwarfed them both, standing over a foot taller than Andrew and nearly as much so over Neil. But here, like this, with Neil straddled on his lap, tiny in comparison to the hard muscled planes of Kevin’s larger form and working at the waistband of his shorts with that teasing grin on his face, it was incredible. He almost didn’t want to interrupt them by going over, but he had a plan in mind. It was something he’d been thinking about for a while, mulling over, figuring out the logistics of. He wanted it. Badly. Now he just had to show Kevin and Neil.

With Kevin finally naked, and all but tearing Neil’s boxers in effort to reduce him to the same state, Andrew stubbed out his cigarette, pushed off the dresser, and went over. He knelt on the bed behind Neil, pressing himself up smoothly and suddenly against his back, his hand going to Neil’s hip to pull him back. Neil gasped at the sudden contact, falling back against Andrew and tilting his head to the side so Andrew could press hot kisses against his neck, marking Neil where Kevin hadn’t been able to reach.

“Yes or no?” Andrew asked, because he needed to hear Neil’s answer before they continued.

“Yes, Andrew, it’s always-”

Andrew ground his hips into Neil’s ass, pressing his clothed erection against Neil’s bare ass and shutting him up before he could continue. Neil gasped at the sudden pressure, but pressed back just as eagerly.

As Andrew’s possessive hands kept Neil caged against him, Kevin feasted his eyes on Neil’s exposed body, running a palm reverently down his scarred chest, feeling the dips and curves of puckered skin and hard muscle. Neil shivered at the dual stimulation, his breaths coming out in little harsh pants. Kevin ran his hands over the front of Neil’s thighs, stroking and caressing every inch of flesh except for the quickly hardening length of Neil’s cock. Neil tried to thrust his hips forward, begging for Kevin’s hand to close over him, but Andrew kept him firmly rooted. 

“So pretty Neil,” Kevin said, placing his hand at the centre of Neil’s chest and travelling slowly, _slowly_ , down, “you want it baby?”

“Yes, fuck Kevin, I want it,” Neil pleaded.

Kevin’s hand closed around him without further ado and Neil’s entire body jerked. Andrew wrapped one hand around his chest, his arm bands standing in stark contrast to the marred flesh, as the other tightened its grip around Neil’s waist, anchoring him while Kevin thumbed the tip of his cock, spreading the pre-come beading there. Neil whined, his head turning to nuzzle into the crook of Andrew’s neck as he sought to anchor himself. 

“Neil,” Andrew prompted, raising one hand to turn Neil’s face to meet his. He waited until Neil opened his eyes, the blue of them burning with lust as they met Andrew’s. “I want to fuck you,” he said, and Neil shivered. 

“Yes.”

“I want Kevin to fuck you too.”

At that, Neil’s brow furrowed, turning from Andrew to look at the larger man below him. Kevin looked up from Neil’s dick to meet their gazes, his eyes landing questioningly on Andrew as he began to decipher his meaning.

“Both of us, at the same time?” He asked.

“Yes,” Andrew replied.

“Will…” Neil’s voice brought Andrew’s attention back to him, “will it… fit?” he asked.

Andrew eyes darkened at Neil’s tone; cautious but with an evident undercurrent of excitement. At the minute change in Andrew’s expression, Neil’s cheeks flushed. Andrew envied Kevin getting to feel the twitch of Neil’s dick in his hand.

“Yes,” Andrew said, not a trace of doubt in his tone. “We’ll stretch that pretty little hole until we make it fit.” Neil’s eyes closed as his head dropped back against Andrew’s shoulder.

“Yes,” he moaned, unprompted. He had always been so responsive to Andrew’s filthy words, to his dark tone, in much the same way Kevin was.

Andrew turned to Kevin, brow raised questioningly. Kevin nodded firmly, eyes widened with the idea of what he had just agreed to do. 

Andrew started by slathering his hand up with copious amounts of lube and massaging Neil’s hole with careful, precise motions. They fucked him regularly enough that his muscles relaxed easily, allowing the intrusion with little resistance and no discomfort.

As Andrew opened him up, Kevin continued stroking his cock. He kept his movements small and teasing, thumbing the tip and caressing his balls every so often, keeping him achingly hard but far from release. Neither of them wanted Neil to come until they were buried inside him, milking his pleasure from him with their thrusts. Neil, as frustrated as his jerks and moans and pleading was, wanted the same.

Andrew worked him up to three fingers, thrusting and scissoring and twisting, brushing against his prostate often enough to drive him insane, but not enough for him to come. The fourth took more coaxing, more lube, and a lot of filthy encouragements from Kevin before Andrew could work it in, but Neil accepted it into his body with an obscene moan. 

“Andrew fuck, fuck, fuck, Andrew,” Neil chanted, pushing himself back against the digits. Andrew bent him forward, pushing his pliant body until he was pressed against Kevin’s chest, head buried in the crook of his neck, shivering. Kevin cradled him in his arms, hand falling away from his teasing ministrations to card instead through Neil’s sweat dampened curls.

“So pretty Neil, so pretty for us,” he whispered softly, and Neil flushed at the praise. “Can’t wait to fuck you, pretty boy. You’re being so good for us.”

Neil’s hands clutched Kevin desperately as Andrew twisted the four fingers buried in his ass just so, lighting up his body with a shock of pleasure.

“Are you ready, Neil?” Andrew asked, stroking a hand down his back, “I need a yes.”

“Yes, Andrew, yes, yes, yes, yes-”

Andrew grabbed his hips and angled him upwards, pulling him over until he was positioned above Kevin’s dick. Before he allowed him to sink down, he grabbed the lube and squirted more into his hand, before wrapping it around Kevin’s hard length and stroking. Kevin moaned, having been unable to see Andrew’s hand under Neil’s body and so not anticipating the touch.

“Fuck Andrew,” he groaned, his arms tightening around Neil.

Andrew leant forward, claiming Kevin’s lips and silencing sound, kissing the taller man fiercely. When he drew back he saw Neil was watching them, slack jawed and glassy eyed.

Andrew watched his face as he allowed his hips to sink down, burying Kevin deep inside him. 

Andrew had prepared him more thoroughly than he usually did, with more fingers and with more attention to relaxing the muscle, and so Kevin slid inside Neil with ease. In a single thrust he was buried to his hilt, drawing a harsh grunt from the dark haired striker while Neil’s face contorted in ecstasy and he _keened._

“Oh fuck, fuck Kevi-” his voice was a high pitched babble, muffled against Kevin’s chest.

It was then that Andrew started to guide his hips, drawing them up and down at a torturous pace, impaling Neil on Kevin’s cock.

Neil writhed, the sensations overwhelming, so close to coming but held off by the fact that Kevin’s hands were clutching his back and not touching his cock. He had never managed to come untouched, and with Andrew angling his hips so that Kevin only brushed his prostate every few thrusts, it seemed so impossibly far away. He became a mess of begging and moaning and writhing, held down by Kevin’s arms around him and kept steady and consistent with Andrew’s hands guiding him smoothly. It was so much, so much sensation. Physically he was on fire, and his mind was breaking in half with the thoughts of his two boyfriends taking such care with him, controlling his body as they pleased to make him feel so _good._

“I’m going to put a finger in now, Neil, yes or no?” Andrew’s voice was gravel and fire and everything Neil wanted to hear. He desperately wanted the other man inside of him, where he belonged.

“Yes, Andrew yes.” He wasn’t sure how much of it was intelligible, but Andrew was satisfied that he had been given consent. 

He prodded gently at Neil’s rim, stretched around Kevin’s substantial length. There was the smallest amount of give, but not enough that the way was easy. So Andrew sat back on his heels and pushed Neil down to stay perched on Kevin’s hips, his cock halfway inside the warm heat, leaving enough space for Andrew to continue.

“No moving, either of you. I’m going to stretch you up nice and slow, Neil, but you’re not allowed to come till we’re both inside you. Kevin, keep control of yourself. You’re not coming either.” 

It seemed that the only time Andrew vested enough interest in anything was when he was commanding his boyfriends in bed. The thrill of telling others what to do, of watching them jump to follow the command, eager and ready and desperate to please, was heady. It was almost as much as sitting on the edge of the roof, as the artificial high of the drugs had been. It was infinitely more satisfying.

“Yes or no?” He continued, because even though he relished giving orders, taking control where for so long it had been taken from him, it meant nothing unless both Neil and Kevin wanted to follow them. They were empty words without consent, they were nothing.

Neil nodded and babbled his yesses into Kevin’s skin, though Andrew could see it took some effort to not protest how delayed his release would be. Kevin similarly nodded and gave firm consent, more put together than Neil, though similarly frustrated. 

He put more lube on his fingers before massaging Neil’s rim again, pressing firm little circles into the skin stretched around Kevin’s cock. Both of them squirmed with the sensation. He carefully worked his way up to pushing a finger inside, ensuring that Neil was prepared for the initial, mind-blowing feeling of being so filled.

Kevin jerked as he felt Andrew’s finger working in alongside him, the sensitivity of his aching dick and Andrew’s clever fingers whiting out his mind, his jaw slackening and mouth falling open in a silent moan.

It took some time for Neil to manage two fingers- enough that Kevin was biting out curses and groans in equal measure and Neil was nearly shaking- as Andrew was adamant that he would not cause him undue pain. Of course there was the unavoidable burn of the stretch, the ache of being so full, but it wasn’t _bad._ Andrew would never make it bad. Neil trusted him completely. 

Andrew started to edge a third finger in, and Neil was seconds away from screaming. He was so turned on, so _horny,_ the need to come was so desperately strong, that he didn’t mind if the ache was a little harsher, he just needed Andrew inside him _now._ He needed to be filled and fucked within an inch of his life. 

“Andrew- Andrew I’m ready, I’m ready now Andrew-” Andrew’s fingers curled and Neil yelped.

“I’m not going to hurt you just because you’re so desperate to get fucked that you can’t think straight." 

“I can’t think straight regardless,” Neil quipped, but it fell on unamused ears. Kevin was too far lost in the strange, new sensations of Andrew’s fingers stroking his dick from inside Neil, and Andrew was pathologically unimpressed with Neil’s shitty humour on a good day.

“Andrew it’s fine, you won’t hurt me. I know you’ll stop if-” Neil trailed off as Andrew curled his fingers again, pressing Kevin’s dick firmly against his prostate. “fuck, fuck, fuck- if I fucking ask… Andrew Jesus I’m trying to-” Andrew was unrelenting in his distraction, deliberately trying to side-track Neil.

“Do you want to fuck me or not?” Neil finally managed to cry out.

“You know I do,” was Andrew’s reply, whispered in his ear with just the right amount of growl to make Neil shudder. Andrew sucked his earlobe into his mouth, biting and nibbling the soft, sensitive tissue and drawing long sighs from Neil as he continued to thrust his fingers.

“Fuck,” Kevin whispered, Neil’s little mewls drawing him out of his pleasured haze. “Jesus Andrew.”

“Not quite,” was the dead-pan reply.

“Andrew if you keep that up I’m not gonna be able to hold back,” Kevin warned, his fingers twitching reflexively as Andrew continued the slow drag of his digits.

“Yes, you will,” Andrew said.

“Andrew-”

“You will because I told you to. And you’re such a good boy for me Kevin, aren’t you?" 

Neil smiled softly at Kevin’s small shudder, his nearly inaudible groan. It wasn’t often that the publicly stoic Exy champion got to be called a good boy.

“Andrew” Neil’s quiet voice returned the attention to him, “Andrew come on.”

Andrew, finally, relented. 

He was still fully clothed while the two other boys were completely naked, but that was usually the way of things. Even if Andrew was comfortable with touching Neil and Kevin, the favour couldn’t always be returned. It was safer for Andrew to have a barrier separating them, sometimes. He only allowed so much vulnerability.

He pulled back to unzip his pants and push them down far enough to free his erection, achingly red and hard. Neil looked over his shoulder to watch as Andrew stroked it idly, covering himself with exorbitant amounts of lube. It was probably unnecessary, but Neil knew he did it because the idea of hurting Neil, however unintentionally, was unforgiveable to him. Neil would bear the uncomfortable sounds the excess produced if it gave Andrew a greater peace of mind.

“Ready, Neil? Yes, or no?” He asked, one last time. Neil’s yes was instant and unhesitant. 

Andrew began to push in.

It was… a lot. An incredible amount. Of everything. Neil gasped audibly as he felt the burn of the stretch, but it wasn’t as bad as one might have expected. Andrew had been very thorough in his preparation. Despite even that, the idea of both his boy’s being inside him, Kevin already deep as Andrew pushed in alongside, was so ridiculously hot that whatever pain there was was negligible. Andrew and Kevin were _both inside him._ Fucking him and each other.

Neil’s mind was breaking. 

Andrew pushed in halfway, grunting loudly and burying his face in Neil’s shoulder. “ _Fuck_ Neil. You’re so fucking tight.”

Kevin was all but whimpering under them. The urge to thrust and fuck was nearly all consuming, nothing was left in his mind but for the image of Neil perched atop him, his face screwed up in pure ecstasy and the feeling of Andrew’s cock sliding alongside his. It was a purely new and strange sensation. It was intoxicatingly _good._

“Andrew,” he whined, his head falling back against the headboard, “ _Andrew.”_

“Wait,” Andrew growled. He was three quarters of the way inside, taking it slowly, one aching inch at a time. He was allowing Neil to adjust, to get used to the fullness of them both inside him, and allowing himself and Kevin to get used to the nearly painful tightness of Neil’s passage squeezing them.

When he finally bottomed out, Neil shattered. He fell against Kevin, babbling and sobbing and undulating his hips in a desperate attempt to fuck them both deeper inside him. Kevin clutched at him, petting his hair and kissing him and holding him close, rasping words of comfort and praise. It was the most he could do, because the desperate shifts of Neil’s hips were undoing him utterly. 

“Fuck Neil you feel so good, so good Jesus _Christ_ ,” he whimpered. Neil nuzzled into him, soaking up the praise and basking in it. His fingers dug small crescents into Kevin’s shoulder as he clutched him.

Andrew’s pants were loud over Neil’s shoulder, and he latched onto them with a sobering amount of clarity. He wanted to hear Andrew swear and grunt and moan like Kevin, he wanted to milk his orgasm from him, he wanted to shatter Andrew as Andrew had shattered him.

“Do you want to fuck me, or should I ride you?” Neil asked, and Kevin’s breath hitched. Andrew betrayed no audible reaction, but the hands that had fallen to grip Neil’s hips dug in tighter. 

“Fuck baby,” Kevin groaned, “you think you can?”

“Yes. I want to." 

“No one’s stopping you,” Andrew bit out over his shoulder. Neil smiled at the strain in his voice. He would enjoy hearing it again.

Andrew sat back a little on Kevin’s thighs so that Neil had more space to move his hips between them. At first it was a little awkward; one of them slipping out every time his hips rose a little too far or rocked too enthusiastically. But for all the effort it took to control his movements, it was _perfect._

Kevin’s cock was thicker, and pressed against his prostate every couple of thrusts, sending shudders down his spine and causing him to buck wildly, nearly throwing him off but for Andrew’s hands like vices on his hips. But Andrew’s cock was longer, just slightly thinner, reaching places inside him that made colours burst behind his eyelids.

It took almost more effort than he was capable of to keep thrusting, to keep bucking and writhing on their laps, fucking them both inside him as deep as he could. The pace was leisurely, a little on the tamer side, considering the strain of keeping two dicks inside him, but it was incredible. He had never felt so full, so surrounded, so loved. Caged in by two hard bodies, hands stroking and teasing and caressing his skin, worshipping him for his efforts as he rode them- it was beyond anything he had felt before.

For Kevin the tightness was almost too much, but the thought of that rigid hardness inside a normally smooth passage being _Andrew_ was enough to keep him going, moaning and grunting and panting and swearing and begging Neil not to stop. The sentiments were echoed silently in Andrew. It had been a long time since he had felt anything like this. 

“Neil, baby, look at you fucking yourself on us,” Kevin breathed, managing even in his debauched state to fit in some dirty talk. Kevin Day was the queen of dirty talk. “You like it baby? You like feeling us both inside you?”

“Kevin,” Neil sobbed, hands clutching the taller boy’s shoulders and using the leverage to drive himself down harder “Kevin, Kevin, Kevin fuck-”

“Such a pretty boy for us Neil, so good taking us both. Look at how that gorgeous little hole stretches. You were made for this.” Neil might have protested such obscene implications at any other time, but right now he was struggling with the coherence to process Kevin’s words at all. All he could feel was pride, satisfaction, at being so good for them.

Andrew reached the end of the thread of his self-control at this point, and latched onto his neck with a flurry of bitting, harsh kisses, surging up and subsequently thrusting deeper. Neil cried out and fell against Kevin, losing his rhythm and the ability to move at all. Andrew more than made up for the slack, holding Neil in a bruising grip and fucking him deep and fast.

“Andrew I need- need to come… fuck Andrew,” Kevin begged.

Andrew looked him in the eye as he thrust deeper, harder, and said: “come.” 

Kevin did.

His orgasm exploded from him, robbing the breath from his lungs and blackening out his vision. 

“Fuck, I can feel you coming,” Andrew said, and there was a note of wonder in his voice that neither of the boys had heard before.

It seemed to last forever as Andrew’s continued thrusts milked the last of his climax from him, heightening his sensitivity until it bordered on painful, so good and so much it was unbearable. He barely softened under the continued ministrations.

“Andrew,” he whimpered.

“No, stay inside until Neil comes,” Andrew barked at him. “Yes or no?”

“Fuck, yeah ok.”

“Good boy Kevin, I know you can take it.”

Kevin’s eyes closed, basking in Andrew’s praise, and he focused on the slowly building pleasure, dulling the edges of the almost painful overstimulation. 

Neil didn’t last much longer. He was deadweight in Andrew’s arms, writhing occasionally as Kevin’s confusedly half-hard length drilled his prostate with Andrew’s thrusts. He begged for someone to touch him, to wrap their hands around his cock and stroke him. He was so close to coming, one touch was all it would take. He was dangling off the edge of the precipice and all he needed was _one push._ But Andrew was determined to make him come on their cocks alone.

And he did. It took longer than it normally would have, it drove Andrew insane with the effort it took to exercise control over his own impending need to come, and it drove Kevin into a mindless frenzy of overstimulation as his dick hardened _again_ , an impressive feat even for a man with his youth and stamina. But it happened.

He came with Andrew and Kevin buried deep inside him, no touch on his cock at all. 

It made everything more intense; the wash of his orgasm swept from his head to his toes and, with nowhere to focus on, simmered out throughout his entire being instead of focusing on his cock. His toes curled and his face crumbled and his mouth fell opened and released a half sob- half cry that would have concerned anyone else in the apartment had they not been alone. It was longer and more intense than any orgasm he had ever had before, such a full body experience that Neil was certain he had actually passed out for half a second.

He came back to himself just in time to feel Andrew’s final thrust before he stilled and came, Neil and Kevin’s names on his lips. Just in time to hear Kevin’s hoarse shout as Neil’s fluttering passage coaxed another, impossible orgasm from him.

They lay in a mess on the bed for some time, panting like they’d run a marathon or played a full game, before Neil could muster the strength enough to pull himself off Kevin’s lap and let both of their now softened cocks slip out. He winced at the emptiness, more exaggerated than ever before with how stretched he had been. Kevin rubbed his back soothingly, pressing soft kisses against his temple and muttering warm words of praise and appreciation. Neil nuzzled up against him, allowing himself to be drawn into Kevin’s all-enveloping arms. 

Andrew glanced at them, their sappy affections, and felt more sentimental than he was entirely comfortable with. So he got up and went to the bathroom, returning with a towel that he used to wipe up the mess Neil had made on Kevin’s chest and abs, and the bed, with gentle but perfunctory motions. He pressed a kissed to a blissed out Kevin’s lips, deepening it briefly, a reassurance and an unspoken appreciation for the other boy’s stamina and endurance. 

Then, with another towel, and softer ministrations, Andrew cleaned up Neil. Neither of them had worn a condom, as was Neil’s preference, and so there was an ungodly mess over and in Neil’s ass and the backs of his thighs. It was a shocking amount of come; one load from Andrew and two from Kevin. He stirred sleepily as he felt Andrew’s gentle hands cleaning him, enough to get rid of the uncomfortable stickiness. He would probably have fun in the shower trying to get the last of their come out of him. He’d love it though.

Neil Josten had always been a come slut.

He pressed a kiss to Neil’s forehead, stroking his hair briefly as Neil sighed and squeezing Kevin’s neck before he moved away. He returned to the dresser and lit up another cigarette.

Neil fell asleep quickly, satisfied and boneless and exhausted. Kevin followed shortly after, mumbling a sappily affectionate good night at Andrew. 

Andrew himself stayed up for some time, smoking the rest of his half-empty pack. When he finally went to bed, he curled up beside a spooning Kevin and Neil, and found that sleep came more easily than it had in a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reblog and like this on [tumblr](http://exyking.tumblr.com/post/151419372563/could-we-get-some-kandreil-smut-i-dont-know-what)


	3. Come Settle Down | Andreil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They were heading out of North Dakota last he knew, and had left the last town before the open highway a while ago, before Neil had fallen asleep. A quick glance at the dash told him that it had been several hours since then. So, if Neil’s time-honed sixth sense of direction was accurate, they were currently in the middle of nowhere. 
> 
> And the car had stopped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the anon who asked for a road trip gone wrong (Aka the car breaks down in the middle of nowhere) and gave me free reign to do as I wished, here is the angsty/fluffy result. 
> 
> Tags: Road trip, panic attacks, hurt/comfort, angst and fluff, non-explicit mentions of sex
> 
> Warning: panic attacks, with a happy ending.
> 
> (title comes from [ Technicolour Beat ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W8fmOciEY8U) by Oh Wonder)

“Are you fucking kidding me.”

Andrew’s voice roused Neil out of his sleep. He blinked his eyes open blearily, rubbing at them to chase away the lingering tiredness. He had been dozing in the passenger seat, head pressed against the window, as Andrew drove. Neil hadn’t bothered to ask where he was taking them, because Andrew usually didn’t tell him. It wasn’t something he minded. Wherever he needed to drive, wherever he wanted to take them, Neil was fine with it.

They were heading out of North Dakota last he knew, and had left the last town before the open highway a while ago, before Neil had fallen asleep. A quick glance at the dash told him that it had been several hours since then. So, if Neil’s time-honed sixth sense of direction was accurate, they were currently in the middle of nowhere.

And the car had stopped.

He looked over at Andrew, about to ask why they had stopped several hours from the next town where Andrew had probably intended to crash for the night, but pulled himself up short. Andrew’s face was expressionless, as it always was, but if Neil didn’t know any better he would say that Andrew was _glaring_ at the steering wheel.

“Andrew?” He asked. There was no response or indication that the blond had heard.

He opened the car door and got out, unhindered by a seatbelt he never wore, and walked around to the car bonnet. In the fading light of day, Neil watched as he popped the hood. Unable to see what Andrew was doing, Neil followed him out.

The smell hit him first.

It was the stench of burning rubber and petrol, a tangy, metallic smoke that settled heavily in the air. Neil froze. He knew it well. He had smelt it before.

Unbidden, images of his mother, glued to her faded leather seat by her own drying blood, disappearing behind the cloud of smoke and fire that had consumed the beaten up Chevy, sprang to his mind. He hadn’t realized he had stopped breathing until Andrew’s hands were forcing him to the ground, pushing his head between his knees and cradling the back of his neck with a firm grip.

“Breathe,” he told Neil. What else could Neil do but try?

He forced ragged breaths into his lungs, hindered by the still heavy smoke that trailed out of the car’s bonnet, trying to see past his swimming vision and failing. He felt dizzy and faint, he always did when the memories he had forced himself to forget came back. He felt hollow and numb and thoughtless, stretched impossibly thin.

Andrew didn’t leave his side, didn’t remove his hand or say a word, until Neil’s breath had returned to him. It took a long time. It was even longer before he could look up and see anything other than his mother’s charred bones.

His glazed eyes met Andrew’s and silence fell between them. Whatever words or excuses Neil could conjure stuck in his throat.

“The car’s fucked,” Andrew said. Maybe it was just to end the silence, maybe it was because the hollowness of Neil’s gaze unnerved him. Neil, despite himself, laughed.

It was a bitter laugh, a manic laugh, the type of empty humor his father had barked when amused. It was dangerous and it was wrong. It was an echo of someone Neil had tried so hard for so long not to be. An echo of himself that he had long buried and left behind.

It made Andrew scowl.

He tightened his hand on Neil’s neck and brought his face dangerously close. “Shut the fuck up Josten,” he growled. Neil did, but the manic grin didn’t leave his face. It felt stuck there, an obscene fixture that felt so deeply wrong but which Neil couldn’t remove.

After a moment Andrew helped him to his shaky feet, guiding him back to the car and pushing him less than gently into the back seat. He followed him in and shut the door behind them.

The smell faded from Neil’s nostrils, kept out of the sealed vehicle. It helped his mind to clear, helped the pained haze of his trauma, the defensive mask that was an echo of Nathaniel Wesninski, fade away. Slowly, the manic grin left his face. Andrew’s presence helped. It always did.

The blond wasn’t good at comforting. At least, it wasn’t what he did when Neil was like this. Comfort was false for Andrew. Comfort was a lie, softening the necessary blow of unavoidable truths. What Andrew provided instead was steadiness, a reminder that the trauma was past, that Neil was safe now because Andrew wouldn’t let anyone hurt him ever again. He wasn’t back on that lonely stretch of road in California, he wasn’t watching his mother’s corpse be consumed by flame, he wasn’t Nathaniel Wesninski anymore and he would never be again.

He was here on the open road in North Dakota, with Andrew sitting beside him. His father was dead, and everyone who wanted to hurt him was far, far away.

“Neil.” Andrew’s voice cut the quiet. Neil opened his eyes, unaware that they had closed, and turned to look at him. He met the hazel gaze with more steadiness than he honestly felt, but it wasn’t because of a lie. He didn’t lie to Andrew; he didn’t need to. The steadiness came from familiarity, because he didn’t have to hide.

“I’m fine,” Neil said.

Andrew scowled again, deeper this time. “I will punch you if you say those words to me again.” Neil offered him a small smile, a genuine one this time. Andrew’s violence masked concern.

“Ok,” he said.

Andrew’s heavy gaze didn’t abate, and Neil knew he needed to reassure him that he would be ok, that the flashback and the panic it brought had passed. He reached out, a slightly shaking hand falling just short of Andrew’s cheek.

“Can I?” he asked, and he waited for Andrew’s minute nod. He cupped his cheek, fingers curling in the hair at the back of Andrew’s neck. He grounded himself against the familiar feeling. After a moment Andrew shuffled closer. Neil watched him with a hooded gaze as he brought their foreheads to rest together.

It made something inside Neil soften, a hard, unspoken edge that he hadn’t realized was paining him until the ache was soothed. He relaxed into Andrew, relaxed into his solid, unyielding presence. He breathed out the ache, and let it go.

“Yes, or no?” Andrew asked him.

“It’s always yes, Andrew. You know that.”

“Except when it’s not.”

“It isn’t. It won’t be. Not with you.”

Andrew said nothing, but he brought their lips together all the same.

His kiss contained all the words he couldn’t put voice to; anger, on behalf of Neil, for Neil, for the dead man who had haunted him, and the dead woman who had made him run. A promise, made with a key, to protect him from those who would harm him, even if that was himself. And, beneath it all, tying it together, something that they would likely never say aloud to one another, something they didn’t need to. Four letters, a single word, meaning beyond even that. A concept that Neil had never truly understood, until now.

Neil broke for breath, though he stayed as close as he could. They shared the air they breathed, as they shared everything. Neil would share the heart beating in his chest if Andrew wanted it from him. But perhaps that was why this could be; because Andrew would never ask more from Neil than he could give. The realization was a heavy one. It transformed this into something more.

“Touch me,” he asked, looking into the pupil-blown hazel eyes.

Andrew did.

He took him apart with hands and mouth, with tongue and fingers, with hard words and soft truths and the promise of always. It was a lot for a boy who had lived for so long on borrowed time.

He gasped Andrew’s name, repeated it like a prayer, as he spilled into his mouth. He whimpered with sensation as Andrew swallowed, pulling away only once he had taken everything Neil had to give. When he pulled him down to kiss him, Neil tasted himself in Andrew’s mouth. It made his head spin in all the right ways, this time.

Neil had held his face and kissed him softly as Andrew reached a hand between his own thighs. When Andrew finished he pressed kisses to his forehead, stroking his hair soothingly in a way he was rarely allowed.

They collapsed together on the backseat of the broken down Lexus, Andrew slumped on Neil, a grounding weight, Neil holding him as closely as Andrew could stand. The earlier panic, the shattering flashback, seemed very far away with Andrew in his arms.

It was a while before Andrew pushed himself up, looking down on Neil as he said “I need to call the insurance company, we’re stuck in the middle of fucking nowhere till they get here.”

“It’s ok,” Neil said, shrugging, “I don’t mind.”

“You’ll fucking mind tomorrow when we run out of food and water and I have to deal with you.”

“It won’t take them that long to get here,” Neil said.

He called the company and was told they’d send someone out in the morning. It would take them hours to get there.

In the time before then, Neil had an empty, open road and a man he trusted with his life by his side. It may not have been the most comfortable arrangement in the less than large Lexus, but Neil didn’t mind. They had hours of uninterrupted solitude to make the most of it, and an abandoned, darkening countryside to swallow all the unheeded and vocal cries that Andrew could coax out of him into silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reblog and like this shit on [ tumblr ](http://exyking.tumblr.com/post/151692280903/are-you-still-taking-prompts-if-you-are-i-would)


	4. And We Run | Kandreil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kevin flicked his wrist suddenly, purposefully, perhaps sensing his distraction. Neil moaned, and Kevin leaned down to quiet him with his mouth. “You like that pretty boy?” He asked, his voice low and gravely. Neil’s hits bucked up in response. He loved hearing how affected Kevin was by this, how much seeing Neil’s pleasure turned him on. 
> 
> He loved being called pretty boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1/2) hi how do u feel about writing kandreil + a fuckton of praise kink (pun kind of intended)
> 
> (2/2) context on that prompt: u always see stuff tagged 'praise kink' but it's like one line out of the whole thing and that is not what i am about, hence 'a fuckton of praise kink' ya feel
> 
> Thank you for this sweet anon.
> 
> TAGS: Praise kink, slight D/s, 'subspace', Orgasm delay/control, Anal fingering + sex
> 
> Title comes from [ If I Get High](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xWpEZguQE8E) by Nothing but Thieves (it's good shit check it)

Kevin stroked him lazily, expertly, twisting his wrist at the head in the way he knew drove Neil mad, just to get a reaction. Andrew sat against the headboard on the bed beside them, smoking a cigarette and watching carefully, a hand resting gently on Neil’s bicep. The unspoken challenge was for Neil to stay still enough not to knock it off.

They’d been going at it for twenty minutes now like this, and Neil was losing it. They hadn’t given him permission to come, a fact which made the struggle of stifling release infinitely harder. The idea of them having control over this part of himself, of him giving it to them knowing they would push him hard but not further than he could handle, it was almost too much. He craved their dominance, craved giving up to it and letting them pleasure him, take care of him. He didn’t know what that said about him.

Kevin flicked his wrist suddenly, purposefully, perhaps sensing his distraction. Neil moaned, and Kevin leaned down to quiet him with his mouth. “You like that pretty boy?” He asked, his voice low and gravely. Neil’s hits bucked up in response. He loved hearing how affected Kevin was by this, how much seeing Neil’s pleasure turned him on. He loved being called pretty boy.

Kevin grinned, chuckling a little and stroking him harder. Neil’s eyes screwed shut and he keened, fighting off the need to come. He wanted to be good for them, to follow their commands and earn his release, to hear their praise when he succeeded, words that made him feel so warm and safe and _loved._

“So good Neil, you’re such a good boy. So pretty like this, aren’t you baby?”

Neil blushed, the hot warmth of pleasure blooming in his chest.

He was self conscious of his pleasure, of the scars, self conscious of the way they made him look. Interesting, target, suspicious, _ugly._ His mother had made sure that he knew the only nice things he ever deserved was the ability to wake up every morning and keep running.

He had never cared to be pretty before, never cared if he was good looking only in so far as it would affect his cover, but somehow that had changed. Somehow a level of self consciousness had emerged.  What did he do to deserve this? Why did he deserve to be happy? His mother would hate him for it.

But those words; _pretty boy_ , those praises, they told Neil that that wasn’t true. No matter what mars adorned the flesh of his body, he was theirs. They had fought for him; he had survived for them. No amount of scarred flesh in the world would ever make them let him go. Sometimes Neil needed to be reminded of that fact. Sometimes he needed to be reminded that he deserved this, too.

“How much do you want to come, Abram?” Andrew’s voice, harsh and smoky, always sent tingles down his spine. There was power and control and interest there, in the place of the usual apathy and boredom. He was riveted to Neil, despite his feigned casualness, unwilling to let his attention drift for even a moment, in case something happened. He knew the cost of Neil’s submission, just as Neil knew the cost of his dominance, and so they watched for each other, to make sure they never went too far. Kevin, less familiar with these things, was the one keeping it all together.

Kevin pressed a kiss to his temple, such an intimate and familiar gesture. “Come on baby, tell us how much you want it.”

“I want it,” Neil breathed, hands curling into fist with the effort.

“You can do better than that,” Andrew said.

Thoughts trickled sluggishly through his mind. It was always hard to think like this, with Kevin’s hands on him, Andrew’s attention. It was like the way one’s limbs grew heavy in a warm bath, relaxed in the warm water. It was pleasant, comforting, not at all the way he thought it should be. If Nathaniel had been so similarly crippled, he would have fought against it like hell, regardless of the cost. But Neil wasn’t Nathaniel anymore, and it felt good to be vulnerable. He knew his boys’ would never take advantage or hurt him.

“I- I want it I-” the word _please_ came to mind, but such a word would never be uttered here. There were ways to beg without it, as Neil was coming to learn. “I _need it._ So bad I- I-” his breath hitched as Kevin flicked his wrist again, his back arching off the bed. With a carefully placed hand against his torso, Andrew pushed him back down.

He held him there, not pinned but stayed, with a gentle force that could perhaps be easily broken. That wasn’t the point though. It was with that, with Andrew’s touch and Kevin’s hand, with that one last play of dominance that Neil had been so desperately needing, that the last of his self restraint shattered. Something inside him shifted and his world became this; the feeling of their touch, the pleasure of it, pure physicality and raw want. He surrendered to it, no longer afraid of the force of his own desire. He needed them, he wanted them, he had never wanted anything else more.

It was not the first time he had experienced what research had indicated to him was ‘subspace’, after the first incident had left him emotionally ruined for a week afterwards. They had, all three of them, learnt a lot more about this since then, a lot more about what to do when Neil reached this point, what to do to help him stay there and to come safely down from it.

“We’ve got you baby, it’s ok,” Kevin said, so softly, so sweetly. Neil whined and shifted towards him, trying to get closer, trying to touch as much of him as he physically could, to push into the hand that stroked him. “So pretty Neil, look at you, so fucking beautiful. I want you so much baby.”

But, despite his words, his hand stopped.

It came as a shock to Neil, sudden and unexpected. He whined and panted, becoming distressed, crushed with the thought that Kevin had stopped because he didn’t want Neil anymore. It wasn’t a logical thought, but Neil was beyond that now.

“Breathe, Abram. What’s wrong?” Andrew’s voice now, closer. He had thrown away the cigarette and leaned down, his lips ghosting against Neil’s ear.

“Don’t stop, I- Kevin I’m sorry I-”

“Hey, hey Neil, baby it’s ok,” Kevin crooned, stroking his hair now. “I never want to stop with you, I love touching you so much, love making you feel good. I just don’t want to end this too quick, still so much I wanna do to you pretty boy.”

Neil relaxed a little, comforted. In a lucid state of mind it would have been embarrassing, but there was no one to judge him here.

“What do you want, Abram?” Andrew said.

Neil didn’t know, could barely think. All he knew was that he needed them, he didn’t know how. He’d take whatever they would give him and beg for more.

“Can I tell you what I want?” Andrew continued, voice low, gravelly. Neil turned into it, pressing his forehead against Andrew’s, desperate to touch any part of him. “I want to fuck you.”

He shivered, aching at the thought of it. “Yes, Andrew I- yes.”

They moved him around gently, strong hands and arms manhandling him into the right position; sitting on Kevin’s lap, facing him, with Andrew kneeling behind. Kevin cradled his face, kissing his cheeks and forehead, muttering sweet praises into his skin as Andrew coated his fingers with a healthy amount of lube and began to massage his entrance.

It felt amazing, incredible, better than words could hope to describe. He tried to push back into it but Kevin wrapped an arm around his waist to keep him steady.

“Still now, pretty boy, just let Andrew and I take care of you.”

He nodded, mouth slack, hands clutching desperately at Kevin’s shoulders. Andrew pushed his finger inside.

Neil keened, falling forward against Kevin’s broad chest, tilting his hips up and back for a better angle. His body sung with the feeling of Andrew inside him, lighting up every nerve ending into a blazing inferno of sensation. Kevin stroked his back gently, reverently, pressing kisses to the top of his head. Similarly, Andrew’s other hand rested gently on the swell of his ass, grounding and real.

Andrew worked, slowly and steadily, up to three fingers, gently twisting and rocking and massaging until Neil loosened to his liking. With Neil so slumped and boneless, a moaning mess, it wasn’t difficult.

He moaned and writhed and bucked his hips, trying to drive Andrew’s fingers deeper, but was stopped by Kevin’s grip. The longer it went on, the more that he was stretched, the deeper he sunk into that warm space in his mind- that space that was only _this_ and _them_ and _more._ Nothing else existed in this world.

When he was satisfied that an appropriate amount of preparation had been done, Andrew looked up to Kevin, meeting his eyes and then giving a nod. At his cue, Kevin nuzzled down into Neil again. “You ok baby boy?”

Neil didn’t answer for a moment, too caught up in the feeling of Andrew’s fingers still inside him, stilled but firmly pressed against his prostate. He wanted them to move again, told them so by pressing back, but was once more held firmly in place by Kevin’s unyielding grip. Someone chuckled into his hair. Kevin, obviously, Andrew didn’t chuckle. Neil thought Kevin’s chuckle was the prettiest sound in the world.

“I need you to answer, pretty boy. You’re doing so well, such a good job for us, we gotta make sure you’re ok.”

Neil preened under the praise, filled with pride and satisfaction. He was being good for them, they were happy with him. Was there any better feeling in the world? “I’m- I’m perfect.”

Kevin chuckled again, a little softer now, a little quieter. It was followed with a kiss, right to his forehead. It was such a comforting gesture, so warm and protective. He always felt like this in Kevin’s arms. “Yes you are baby boy, so fucking perfect.”

“Neil,” Andrew said, demanding his attention. “What are you feeling?”

Neil spine tingled, a littering of pleasure at Andrew’s husky voice. “I feel you inside me, your fingers.”

Andrew crooked them, pressing harder against his sweet spot, pushing Neil forward into Kevin and drawing from him a loud moan. It was almost teasing. “What else do you feel? I want to know everything.”

Neil’s mind struggled to find the words to describe what he was feeling, fell impossibly short anyway. “My body feels so warm, and my chest- my chest is so tight. I don’t think I can move.”

Kevin held him tighter, arms clutching him closer. “We’ve got you pretty thing, you’re safe. You’re home.”

Neil nodded, stunned at the way those words went straight to his heart. It must have grown three sizes.

“What else do you feel? Keep going Neil, doing so well,” Andrew said. His fingers rotated in small circles, pressing firm against Neil’s prostate on every swipe.

“Safe. I feel safe.”

Kevin kissed him again. “Always safe with us, we’ll always take care of you.”

“Yeah?”

Andrew pressed a kiss to the back of his neck. “Yeah.”

Neil turned his head, kissing the side of Andrew’s face where he could reach at the angle. Andrew turned into it, seeking Neil’s lips with his own.

The kiss was incredible, everything Neil hadn’t realized he was aching for. He gave everything he had to it, kissed fiercely and with utter abandon, desperate to communicate everything he felt through lips and touch alone.

When Andrew drew back, he was breathless, panting a little, his cheeks flushed. Neil had never seen a more beautiful sight.

“Kiss Kevin,” Andrew told him, and his voice was just as breathless as Neil hoped it would be. “Don’t stop.”

At his command, Neil turned back to Kevin, grin on his face, waiting expectantly for Kevin to close the distance. He had never seen such hunger in Kevin’s eyes, such a need. And all of it was for Neil. All of it for want of him.

“I love you,” Neil whispered, suddenly. He had no idea where it came from, they were not words they gave each other. It was a brand of truth Neil hadn’t yet spoken, something honest from deep within him he’d never give voice to before. But in this, with his boys like this, it was right. More than right. Necessary. He couldn’t find an ounce of regret in him.

The other’s stopped, shocked, surprised. It didn’t take long for the surprise to morph into pleasure, for Kevin at least. He smiled so warmly and brightly, a large hand coming up to cradle Neil’s face, stoking a thumb against his cheekbone. “I love you too, Neil. Both of you,” he said. The words weren’t difficult, not for him.

It was another matter for Andrew. It was overwhelming. He knew he didn’t have it in him to repeat it, not now, maybe never. It didn’t mean the sentiment was unrequited. He felt certain of that, more than he had ever been, though he had doubted. He had doubted for a long time, whether he was capable of it, whether he deserved it. He didn’t doubt anymore.

He pressed a kiss to Neil’s neck, again, gentle but firm, lingering. It was enough. In the silent language spoken between them, it was enough. With a hand in the tall striker’s hair, a thumb pressed against the queen piece tattoo, Kevin would figure it out, too.

Andrew finally withdrew the fingers that had been inside Neil, causing the other to almost wince at the loss, but only with a desperation to be filled again. After fishing out a condom from the bedside drawer, putting it on and coating it with a healthy layer of lube, Andrew moved back against Neil. He pressed himself close, back to chest with no space in-between, closer than he had ever allowed between them before. Tonight was a night filled with firsts. He guided his cock to the waiting entrance, rubbing it against the relaxed muscles for a moment. He pushed in, just the tip, slow and incremental, giving Neil time to accommodate the stretch.

Neil keened, feeling Andrew inside him with a shocking clarity. His awareness narrowed further to just this, just Andrew inside him. He distantly felt arms wrapping around him from behind, hands pressed flat to his chest, more hands stroking his hair and face. He distantly heard voices, snippets of praise, tones soft and gentle and comforting. He felt a thousand things but all were blurred, echoes and smudges of something, nothing he could focus on anyway. Background noise, white noise, secondary to this. Everything would always be secondary to this.

When Andrew was all the way inside, when he felt those hips against his back, those thighs against his own, Neil felt… content. There were no other words for it. It was home and it was safety, it was comfort and satisfaction, it was happiness and joy and the knowledge that at long as he had this, as long as he had Andrew and Kevin, as long as they loved him and needed him as much as he did them, then everything would be ok. Everything would be fine.

“Neil,” Andrew’s voice, his name, a shattered whisper.

“Andrew. Kevin.”

“We’ve got you baby boy. Let go.”

Neil did, surrendering to their care. He rose higher than he had ever been, felt more than he ever thought possible to feel. He was shattered into a million pieces, and then glued back together, more whole than he had ever been before. He was everything, they were everything. He held them close, they held him closer, and if he could, he would never let go again.

He came with Andrew inside him, drawing the other into orgasm, and came again when he Andrew slipped away and he pulled Kevin into the space left behind.

When it was over, he fell boneless onto the bed, still riding the high of orgasm and subspace, natural intoxicants that wracked his whole being. Andrew, surprisingly, didn’t leave after it was over. He didn’t go over to the windowsill with his cigarettes to smoke until the lingering touches faded and his mind cleared, didn’t distance himself to regain control and composure, didn’t withdraw to hide his vulnerability. He stayed, laying beside Neil, facing him. He didn’t touch, but his hand lay lax on the bed between them, fingers curled ever so slightly, Neil’s own only inches away.

Neil looked into his eyes, used them as his anchor, allowed Kevin to hold him close from behind and stroke his hair, pressing kisses into his shoulder and neck. He allowed them to bring him down from his high, safe and warm and loved, allowed them to return the care and trust he had placed in them.

“You were so good Neil. Love you so fucking much,” Kevin said, a long time after they had fallen silent.

Neil smiled, turning into him and pressing a long, lingering kiss against his lips.

“Thank you, both of you. That was… it’s always so… thank you.” Inarticulate, perhaps. Not at all communicating the extent of his gratitude. Perhaps that was ok, though. They knew. They always knew.

Andrew snorted, “fucking junkies.” It was fond though. As much as Andrew could be.

Neil fell asleep before he could get properly cleaned, absolutely shattered as he usually was after something so intense. The place his mind went to always exhausted him to return from.

Kevin would have gladly followed him, but found the energy to push himself out of bed and went to the bathroom to fetch a towel and wet it. He cleaned Neil as best he could, careful not to disturb him too much. Andrew watched in silence.

After he was done he balled the towel up and threw it, with perfect aim, into the laundry basket. He sat back on the bed, cross-legged by Neil’s sleeping head.

“Do you think we’re being careful enough?”

Andrew looked at him, took a moment to process the words, to think. “I trust him to tell us if we fuck up. I trust us to notice.”

Kevin nodded, smiling a little as he brushed a strand of hair from Neil’s forehead. Normally the other would jerk awake in an instant at a touch during sleep, but as exhausted as he was, he wouldn’t stir until morning. They would watch over him, make sure he was safe, watch his back when he couldn’t. Another part of the deal.

“Thank you,” Kevin said, after a time. “I know this isn’t as easy for you as you make out.”

Andrew raised an eyebrow. “Do you?”

“It took you years to do this. Whatever stopped you then doesn’t just disappear now. I may not be as observant as Neil, I might not understand you the way he does and that’s fine. It is. I get that you share things I’ll never understand and I love that about you. But I can’t have lived with you both for as long as I have and not pick up on things.”

Andrew was silent. There was nothing to say. Nothing that needed to be spoken, in any case.

“I want you to know that I’m grateful and I’m proud of you, of both of you, for getting to this point.”

Something in Andrew, something deep and hidden, reacted to that. It wasn’t something he’d acknowledge, wasn’t something he thought he could, but he felt it all the same. “What are you, my fucking therapist?”

Kevin snorted, “you’re too fucked up for me to deal with, Minyard.”

Andrew rolled his eyes but pushed himself up, leaning over Neil’s prone form to bring his face close to Kevin’s. “I don’t need your gratitude or your pride. I’m not Neil, I don’t get off on that shit.”

“Maybe not,” Kevin said, shrugging, “but I love you as much as I love him. Sometimes I want to tell you these things.”

Andrew’s nostrils flared, eyes narrowed. “I hate you.”

“Sure you do.”

Andrew shut the bastard up with a kiss, holding his jaw steady with a harsh grip as his mouth plundered and explored and relished. Kissing Kevin was always different to Neil. It was hard and unyielding and a battle for dominance, where Neil always ceded to Andrew’s lead. It was harsh and biting, an edge of pain in the clash of their teeth and tongues, where Neil was soft and eager. They were perfect in their differences and despite them.

Kevin drew back when he ran out of air, breathless and panting, lips red and raw and bruised. He looked perfect like this. Andrew ran a thumb along his cheekbone, pressing it against his lips until Kevin sucked it inside, biting playfully on the tip. Andrew studied him, deliberating for a moment. “Next time, I’m gonna fuck you while you suck Neil’s dick. Yes, or no?”

Kevin’s cock, despite being so recently satisfied, jumped, heat coiling in his belly. “Fuck yes.” He breathed.

Andrew nodded, satisfied. “Good. Go to sleep.” He pulled away and stood, going over to the wardrobe where he got out his smoking jacket and cigarettes.

“You not coming to bed?” Kevin asked, already lying down beside Neil, holding him close.

“Later,” Andrew said.

Kevin nodded, not pushing it, knowing Andrew would come back to them when he was ready. “Stay warm.”

Andrew looked at him for a long moment, at the way he curled around Neil, so much larger against the sleight frame. He nodded, a stiff jerk of his head, then opened the door and left for the roof.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like/reblog this [here](http://exyking.tumblr.com/post/153677723638/hi-how-do-u-feel-about-writing-kandreil-a)


	5. When you Drown | Andriel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, there are nightmares that are harder to wake from. In the run up to the anniversary of Baltimore, Neil finds out just how much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is basically angst, so prepare yourself for some mad hurt/comfort.
> 
> TW for panic attacks and just general nightmarish things. There's a happy (ish) ending, but you gotta wade through the angst first.
> 
> (Title from Amber Run's 'Wasteland' their new album just dropped it's so fucking good go listen)

It happened, sometimes, on bad days that got worse.

He’d wake up in the morning and feel it like an itch under his skin, like bugs crawling and biting and burrowing so deep that he’d never rid himself of the phantom sensations of them. No matter how hot the water he ran in the shower, how brutally he scrubbed and clawed at his skin.

He felt dirty.

He felt like a lie.

When he first saw his reflection, it would come as a shock. Everything within him would ground to a halt, and there would only be the brutal realisation of who he was, of what had been done to him, of what he had done. He would stand and stare at that reflection for hours, until shapes and lines blurred, and the icy blue of his eyes turned into an empty pit into which he fell and fell and fell.

It was his father’s face.

When Neil smiled, the Butcher smiled back at him.

Andrew would drag him away, put cubes of ice into his hands and squeeze them around it until they burned. He would talk to Neil, random and pointless things, until Neil looked at him and he could see recognition in those empty eyes, instead of that hollow, blank stare.

His hand on the back of Neil’s neck, clutching Neil’s around ice, his voice filling his ears, the smell of him near and constant, it was comforting. It grounded him, enough for thought to penetrate the incessant chorus of _liar liar liar_ cycling ceaselessly through his mind.

“He was my father,” Neil would whisper. “He made me.”

“He isn’t,” Andrew would say, ferocious, insistent. “He didn’t. He was a killer, and you ran away. You are a fox. You are Neil Josten.”

“Then why don’t I feel that way?”

Andrew would grab his face and force him to meet his eyes, would press his thumbs to the scars on Neil’s cheeks and step in close.

“Because you are having a bad day. That doesn’t change anything. You are still the man I gave those keys to, you are still the man who made this team into something worth a damn. You are still the man I told to stay.”

Coming from Andrew, the truth of those words was a lifeline. Neil would cling to it desperately, as he clung to Andrew desperately, and the blond would allow him this comfort. With Neil’s hands fisted into his shirt, his face pressed into the crook of his neck, Andrew would wrap an arm around his shoulder, another in his hair, and Neil would feel grounded and steady. He would feel safe.

The lingering touch of his father would fall away, irrelevant. The smell of burning rubber and metal, the sting of knives and the stench of sticky blood coating his skin would diminish.

Sometimes, it was enough.

Sometimes, it wasn’t.

Neil had been having nightmares all week, in the run up to the anniversary of his father’s death and that night in Baltimore. They had gone to Columbia for the weekend, the other monsters tagging along, though they kept out of the way. It was, in part, in effort to get Neil out of his head. Another because if and when Neil broke down, Andrew wanted as small an audience as possible.

Every night, Neil had awoken covered in sweat, breathing like he’d run a marathon, forgetting momentarily who and where he was and reaching instinctively for the knife beneath his pillow.

Andrew was there, always, having awoken at the first sounds of distress that Neil made quietly into the pillow. When Neil would bolt upright, weapon in hand, eyes searching for a threat that wasn’t there, Andrew would repeat his name until Neil dropped the blade and buried his face in his hands. He was careful not to touch him until he had settled.

His instinct was always to wake Neil at the first sounds of distress, to reach out and touch him and remind him that he was safe. Andrew had made him a promise that he would die keeping. He wanted to pull him from his nightmares and remind him that they were the past, there was nothing here to hurt him anymore, his father was dead.

But a knife at his throat and a strangled, horrified gasp from Neil had more than told him what would come of that. He never again wanted to see the look of fear and hatred and disgust that had contorted Neil’s face when he realised what he had done.

There was a difference between the Neil he knew and the person whining on the bed beside him.

They were not the same man.

Tonight was no different.

At the first sounds of the now familiar whimpers, he set down a count for ten minutes in his head, resolving that if at the end of that time Neil still hadn’t settled, he’d do what he could to wake him. Neil fell into silence after five.

Andrew couldn’t sleep for hours after that, his attention too fixated on the sleeping face of the tormented boy beside him.

Watching over him as he slept accomplished nothing. It gave no comfort or peace of mind knowing Neil was trapped in his head with whatever memories festered there, and that Andrew could do nothing to help him.

He fell back into a tenuous sleep hours later, though it didn’t last long.

He was awakened at three in the morning by a sound in the kitchen, no trace of Neil in the bed beside him. That in itself was the first sign; Neil never got out of bed without either accidentally or purposely waking Andrew up.

So Andrew got up, slipped on his sleeves, and went to find him.

Neil was sitting on the kitchen floor with the knives from the kitchen drawer arranged in front of him in descending order of size, sharpness and quality. Andrew saw one of Renee’s blades sitting closest to his right hand. Neil had taken it from one of his sleeves.

“Neil,” Andrew said.

“Shhh,” was the reply. “I’m trying to concentrate.”

His voice was a timbre lower than usual, his tone harsher than he normally used with Andrew. He didn’t bother to look up at him, but if he had, Andrew knew he would see only a mask of apathy on his face, and nothing but emptiness in his icy blue eyes.

He wasn’t awake, not really. He was caught somewhere in a state between nightmare and reality, the place where all the men he had been blurred together, until they were the same. Nathaniel and Neil and Chris and Stefan and Alex. All the truths and all the lies he had ever been.

They had been here before.

“Neil, wake up.”

“I told you to shut up, Andrew.” His hand closed around the hilt of a blade, white knuckled from the force of his grip. He picked it up and examined it closely, before scratching at a speck of dirt left on the flat of the blade.

“Neil-”

“Fuck off,” the man on the floor bit. “You don’t know shit.”

He dropped the knife and it clattered on the tiles loudly. He silenced it with the flat of his hand.

“My father told me you should always take care of your knives. You should sharpen and polish them until they could slice off your finger if you aren’t careful.” He skimmed the tip of his finger along the edge of the blade and watched as blood welled to the surface of the shallow wound. “He made me clean his knives when he was finished with them. I’d have blood under my fingernails for days.”

“Your father is dead.”

Neil stopped, entire body going still. Then, he turned, his eyes meeting Andrew’s. He smiled.

“The Butcher is dead.” He laughed. “You think it’s that easy? There’s always another.”

Andrew watched him pick up Renee’s blade, examining it closely before spinning it around in his hand. He played with it like it was a toy and not a tool of unimaginable pain. He played with it like he had been doing so his whole life, like he understood it so well he could do this in his sleep. Like he knew that knife better than he knew himself.

“Ichirou is not my father, but he will never let me go.”

“Ichirou can’t do shit.”

Neil smirked absently, like an actor reading a script and half-heartedly following the stage directions. “You think you have the power to stop him? One man is nothing against the might of the Moriyama empire.”

“Ichirou is a man; he will bleed like any other.”

Neil looked at him again. He frowned. “It’s not worth it.”

“That’s not something you get to decide,” Andrew said.

“And you do?”

Andrew looked at him, unflinching beneath his cold regard. Then, he knelt in front of Neil, putting the rows of knives between them like a particularly deadly shield. He reached out and picked one up, one of the sharper ones, though it was small. He turned it over, checking every edge, before looking up at Neil and, with perfect precision, throwing the knife at the wall. It stuck into the pantry door with a dull thud, quivering from the force of the impact.

Neither of them flinched.

“The knives are clean and sharp, Neil. Come back to bed.”

Neil looked at him, and Andrew thought he saw a modicum of awareness return to his eyes.

“That’s not my name.”

“Nathaniel is dead.”

Neil winced, and the knife fell out of his loose grip.

“Andrew-” His voice was soft and quiet. His hands began to shake. “Andrew-”

Andrew reached across and took Neil’s hands, folding them into his own. His grip was hard and purposeful, stilling the tremor. He looked at him, watched as Neil zeroed in on his touch, awareness returning in the shape of rapid blinks and furrowed brow.

“Your name is Neil Josten. You are a fox. Say it.”

“Andrew-” Neil’s voice broke. He looked at Andrew, eyes wide and wild, confusion twisting his features.

“Your name is Neil Josten. You are a fox. Say it.”

“My name is- is Neil Josten and I-”

He moved then, pushing back and away from Andrew like he had been shocked by an electric current. He smashed into the cupboard behind him, clawing at the ground and ineffectually trying to get further away. He was shaking so badly he couldn’t stand.

“Neil,” Andrew said.

“No, no, no-” Neil began to claw at his face, his hair, sobs wracking his body as he tried to breathe around his panic.

“Neil, breathe.”

“I can’t- I can’t- no, no, ple-”

“Neil.”

Andrew didn’t mean for it to come out as it did; a bark, an order, a command to silence. Neil looked at him through his watery eyes, hands still clutching brutally at his hair.

“Andrew?” He asked.

Andrew hated how small he sounded, how scared and lost. He hated how it had been that to bring awareness back to Neil’s eyes, to shake him from the last vestiges of whatever nightmare he had been living in.

Neil looked down at the knives then, and he flinched. He was still but for the shaking of his hands. He was utterly silent but for the rasp of his breath.

“Did- did I-” he looked back up at Andrew, eyes flicking over him, taking him in and searching for something. “Did I hurt you?”

“No. I wouldn’t let you.”

Neil nodded, but his expression told Andrew what he thought of that. Nathaniel was better with knives than Andrew could ever hope to be.

“You were having a nightmare,” Andrew said.

“I think I’m going to be sick,” Neil replied.

Andrew went to him, hovering within reaching distance but not touching. He held out a hand, his request clear.

“Yes,” Neil said, though he was pale, and closed his eyes. “Just- just not-”

“I know,” Andrew said. “Come on.”

He took Neil’s hands and helped him to his feet, steadying him when he swayed with a hand on his shoulder.

“Bathroom,” he said. Neil nodded.

He continued to hold Neil’s hand as he led him to the bathroom. He sat him on the edge of the tub, wet a towel under the cold water, and pressed it to Neil’s forehead, wiping the clammy sweat that coated his brow. Neil was still shaking, still had his eyes closed, his breath still ragged and strained, but he leant into Andrew’s touch.

Andrew knelt in front of him, careful to give Neil ample space. He pressed a hand to the back of his neck and kept it there.

“Shower,” Andrew said. Neil nodded again.

“Will you- will you come in with me?” He opened his eyes and looked at Andrew. The weight of his stare was devastating.

He was a broken man, abandoned and bleeding and desperate not to be left alone again.

“Yes,” Andrew said, and turned on the water.

He helped Neil remove his shirt and pants, though shook his head when Neil made to remove his boxers. Andrew removed his own shirt, but he kept his shorts on.

They sat on the shower floor, beside each other, not touching, but close. The warm water sprayed down over them, the incessant patter like rain drops, the only sound echoing in the room. It was a soothing noise, a good backdrop to staring listlessly at the wall.

“Andrew,” Neil said, after a long time had passed. Andrew made no acknowledgement, but Neil continued anyway. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t,” Andrew said. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I’m sorry I scared you.”

“Don’t,” Andrew said again.

“I don’t know why this keeps happening. I don’t know how to stop it.”

Andrew hated how small he sounded, how vulnerable.

“You’re fucked up,” he said, because what else was there to say? “You can’t go through what you did and not come out fucked up.”

Neil didn’t say anything, but he closed his eyes. Andrew turned his head to watch a drop of water roll down the tip of his nose.

“I hate this,” Neil said.

“I know.”

Andrew reached between them to where Neil’s hand lay on the wet tiles. He slipped his hand into Neil’s and squeezed tightly, watching Neil to gauge his reaction.

Neil opened his eyes and turned to look at Andrew. There was exhaustion in his eyes, the kind of world weary, bone tiredness that Andrew knew too well. He smiled though, a small, depressing little thing.

“Thank you,” Neil said.

Andrew turned away, and they fell back into silence, staring at the bathroom wall, listening to the fall of the water.

They stayed until the water ran cold, until Neil’s tremors had stilled.

When they got out, Andrew wrapped Neil in a towel and wordlessly, after waiting for Neil’s permission, towelled him dry.

He was gentle with his arms and hands, holding them in one hand as he dried them with the other. Neil closed his eyes at the ministrations, his breathing deep and steady. He dried his back and his shoulders and his hair, careful not to be too rough.

When he was done, he wrapped the towel around his waist and put a hand to the back of Neil’s neck.

“Bed?” He asked. It would probably be one of those days.

Neil nodded. “Will you- I don’t want to talk to anyone.”

Andrew nodded, squeezed once. “I’ll take care of it.”

Neil looked at him. Andrew looked back.

“Can I kiss you?” Neil asked.

Andrew raised an eyebrow.

Neil said nothing else, simply stood and looked and waited for his reply.

It came in Andrew stepping forward, tightening his hold on Neil’s neck. He stopped when he felt Neil’s breath ghosting across his cheek.

Neil waited for Andrew to close the distance, and he did so slowly, with his eyes open. The kiss he pressed to Neil’s lips was gentle, a barely there pressure that made Neil’s lips tingle. When he tilted his head, he closed his eyes, and allowed Neil to part his lips the slightest amount to deepen the kiss.

Neil’s hand came up to rest over his hair, fingers splayed and pressing in. He allowed it and moved his other hand up to grasp Neil’s jaw.

The kiss lasted for a long moment, enough for the tension held in Neil’s shoulders to dissipate a little more. Too soon, Andrew drew away, far enough to look at Neil’s face. His eyes were closed and his lips slightly parted, eyebrows drawn the slightest amount. He drew in a breath and opened his eyes.

“Go to bed,” Andrew said. “I’ll take care of it.”

He nodded, and Andrew gave his neck a final squeeze before drawing away.

He tossed Neil his shirt and shorts, dry as they were, and turned away to put his own shirt on. He left the bathroom first, ignoring the way his wet pants clung to his skin. He’d change them soon anyway.

The first thing he saw was Nicky standing in the kitchen, staring down in horror at the knives on the floor.

Andrew looked over his shoulder to see Neil watching from the doorway of the bathroom, the twisting look of disgust marring his face again.

“Go,” Andrew said.

Neil hesitated only a moment before he did.

“What the fuck?” Nicky asked, looking at Andrew. “Did you do this? That’s fucked up Andrew.”

Andrew gave him a withering look before walking over to the kitchen.

“There’s a knife stuck to the fucking door! I nearly stepped on it and- wait why are your pants wet?”

When he was within reaching distance, Andrew shoved him into the wall and pressed his forearm across his throat. He didn’t press hard. It was more a gesture than anything else.

“Shut the fuck up and walk away,” he said. His voice was bland and dull, but there was no trace of room for argument.

Nicky nodded, blubbering his agreement. “I saw nothing, gotcha, I’ll just go and- yeah I’ll just go-”

Andrew released him, and he left.

He cleaned up the knives with as minimal sound as a bunch of clattering stainless steel could produce, and slipped Renee’s knife back into its sheath where it belonged.

If he pretended that his eyes didn’t linger on the blade Neil had run his finger along, the blade that had drawn blood, if he pretended that it didn’t bother him as he cleaned it off in the sink and put it back in the drawer with the others, there was no one there to call him out on it.

If anyone asked about the nick in the pantry door, he’d blame it on Kevin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Without @theordinaryvegan, every few lines you would stare in confusion at my poorly chosen pronouns, oddly placed grammar, and just generally confusing errors that I missed at 3am while balls deep in regret.
> 
> Thanks babe xx
> 
> Reblog/like this [here](http://exyking.tumblr.com/post/157118309488/instead-of-andreil-how-abt-some-angsty-andriel)


	6. Look What You've Done | Andreil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neil fucks up. 
> 
> Aaron is not happy about it.
> 
> (neither is Andrew)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't too sure about adding this one on here, because it's so short. But, I like having my written prompts all in one place, so sue me. 
> 
> Thanks to the anon who prompted this, you're a genius.
> 
> Tags: Twinyard escapades, possessive behaviour
> 
>  
> 
> (Title from Starboy, cos I couldn't think of anything else)

“Andrew, are you awake?”

There’s no reply from the sleeping mass on the bed, huddled under the blankets with only the top of his blond head peaking out. Neil knows there’s no way Andrew wouldn’t have woken up the second he stumbled his way into the room, so he assumes his silence is wilful.

“Andrew,” he repeats, and dares to poke what he assumes is Andrew’s shoulder.

Again, no response.

Neil, having just finished a two hour run with an exy stressed Kevin, concerned that ‘team retreat’ is synonymous with being lazy and neglectful of his rigorously implemented summer training schedule, is too tired to properly process what that’s supposed to mean.

So, he crawls onto the bed, and flops down on his side.

“You better not kick me in the morning,” he grumbles, before he closes his eyes. In seconds, he falls into an exhausted sleep.

He wakes up with the feeling of being watched, and instantly tries to sit up to assess the danger, only to find himself entangled in someone’s arms, their weight resting almost on top of him. He yelps, though more out of a sense of surprise than of fear, especially when he catches a glimpse of Andrew’s face in amongst their tangles of limbs.

Only, Andrew’s standing in the door way.

It is with a sinking feeling of horror that Neil realises the man clutching him tightly on the bed is, in fact, Aaron.

“Fuck,” he says.

Aaron opens his eyes.

As soon as he’s conscious enough properly take in the situation, Aaron recoils in disgust, all but flinging himself to the other side of the bed in his haste to get away from Neil. He’s making inarticulate sounds of revulsion, looking at him as though anything that just happened was Neil’s intention.

“You- you-” he starts, staring at Neil in horror. “You fucking shit.”

Neil groans, and covers his face with his hands.

“Neil, get up,” Andrew says.

Neil looks at him, and though his arms are crossed and he’s standing rigid in the doorway, there’s no trace of expression on his face.

“I didn’t- I thought-”

“Get the fuck out of my room!” Aaron finally yells, his voice breaking with lingering sleepiness.

Andrew stalks forward and grabs Neil’s forearm, hoisting him out of bed and tugging him out of the room and down the hallway. Neil allows himself to be manhandled, and says nothing until they reach what Neil realises is actually their shared bedroom, on the opposite end of the hallway. How did he manage to fuck up that badly?

Andrew tugs him into the room and closes the door behind them, before rounding on him and pushing him back against the wall.

“Before you say anything, I-”

“Shut the fuck up Josten,” Andrew growls, literally _growls,_ at him.

Neil does.

But, then, Andrew doesn’t say anything, just glares at him with those burning eyes, his jaw tense. It’s almost unnerving, his strange intensity. Neil can’t help but stare back at him.

“I know that finding me in your brother’s bed isn’t exactly how anyone wanted to spend this morning, but I swear nothing happened,” Neil says, after the silence goes on for too long.

Andrew shifts his weight, coming closer, his hands pinning Neil’s chest to the wall. “Shut up,” he growls again.

“I thought it was you. I swear, I didn’t realise.”

“I said, shut the fuck up Josten.”

Neil can’t decipher the look on Andrew’s face, the slightest curling of his upper lip and the strength of his glare. He looks angry, but not. He looks at Neil as though he wants to devour him.

“Are- were you jealous?” He finally asks.

Andrew just growls, and steps in closer, now chest to chest. “No,” he says.

Neil grins. “Well, if this is you showing your possessive streak, maybe I should mistake you and Aaron more often.”

He knows he’s goading, and he’s never been less serious about anything in his life, but it’s worth it for the way Andrew’s eyes narrow, and his hands tighten.

“I am going to kill you,” Andrew says.

“Sure,” Neil replies.

Finally, Andrew kisses him, brutal and hard and utterly possessive, demanding entrance to Neil’s mouth and kissing him without regard for thought of air. Neil’s a gasping, desperate mess when Andrew finally pulls away.

“Don’t let it happen again,” Andrew says.

Neil can only nod, and chase after Andrew’s lips until he’s granted them again, and they kiss until Neil is dizzy and aching, and whatever lingering feeling of _Aaron_ clinging to his skin totally and wholly replace with the hard press of Andrew against him, and his lips and hands and touch slowly taking Neil apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reblog/like this [here](http://exyking.tumblr.com/post/157304770438/ok-but-drunk-neil-crawls-into-bed-during-some-team)


	7. Shape of You | Kevineil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kevin and Neil explore some light bondage, among other things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content: bondage/restraint, blow jobs, anal fingering, anal sex, multiple orgasms, dirty talk
> 
> Thank you to the two anons who wanted some Kevineil, I'm thinking of maybe exploring Kevin/Andrew next? Let me know what you think of that.
> 
> (Title is from Ed Sheeran's 'Shape of You', very obviously probably (it's a good song))
> 
> Huge thanks to @theordinaryvegan for beta-ing and offering her opinions on this, you're the best

“I want to try.”

Kevin looked at him, eyebrow raised. He exuded arrogance, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest, towering over Neil effortlessly.

“Without Andrew here?”

“My sex drive isn’t contingent on his presence. I want you as much as I want him.”

Kevin smirked, pleased at the admission. He liked to pretend it wasn’t a sore spot, that he wasn’t sometimes secretly jealous of the connection Andrew and Neil shared, that he didn’t feel insecure about where he fit with them, but Kevin had never been good at hiding his feelings.

Neil wanted him differently than he wanted Andrew, but the depth of his desire was the same.

“You trust me to do this?” Kevin asked.

Neil shrugged. “I trust you.”

“Without Andrew to pull me up?”

Neil raised an eyebrow. “Are you trying to talk yourself out of this? I thought you wanted it.”

“I do.” Kevin moved closer, his arms unfolding and a hand finding Neil’s. “So much.”

“Then stop talking,” Neil said. “I trust you to stop if I ask.”

Kevin nodded, the smirk wiped from his face as he took in Neil with an unconcealed intensity. Where Andrew guarded his emotions, kept them inside like secrets that Neil had to coax out, Kevin wore his unabashedly and proudly.

There was no lie in the heat in his eyes, no falsehood in the way he licked his lips subconsciously. He was an open book of desire, and Neil was desperate to watch his face crumple with pleasure, to hear the sounds that spilled from his mouth heedlessly. He had no doubt that the feeling was mutual.

Neil was pushed into the wall, and Kevin stepped in close to crowd him, towering over him and all but blocking out the light. In such a position, Neil would usually feel panic. It would be hard to escape boxed in like this— it went against his nature, every lesson his mother had ingrained into him. But where panic would once have overwhelmed him, now he only felt the warm tingle of _trust._ He trusted Kevin to step back and give him space if he asked for it, he trusted Kevin to take care of him and watch for signs of something going wrong. He trusted that Kevin’s motivations were not to hurt or harm him, but in want of him, for him. It was all the difference in the world.

It had taken years to reach this point, years of mistakes and fuck ups that had nearly destroyed them. But now, the trust Neil had was absolute. Even without Andrew here, with his second pair of objective, watchful eyes and hands ready to yank Kevin away as he had had to do before, Neil’s trust was unshakeable.

Kevin leant down until his face was close. “I don’t want to fuck this up,” he said. His voice was a whisper, his words meant only for Neil, a quiet admission of apprehension for the famous son of Exy.

“You won’t,” Neil whispered back. His hands held Kevin’s neck, bringing him closer until their foreheads touched. “I trust you.”

Trust was everything for Neil, and it had come to be the same for Kevin. To earn the trust of someone who had spent their entire life being told never to trust anything or anyone was an incredible gift. Kevin had learnt to cherish it.

Kevin closed the distance between them to kiss Neil. He relished the taste of him, the warm willingness of his mouth, the insistent movement of his lips. Neil kissed Kevin like his lips were the only thing in the world, worshipping them and demanding of them insatiably. It was dizzying, impossibly hot. Kevin was already starting to feel uncomfortable in his jeans.

Without further ado, he bent his knees to get his hands under Neil’s ass and lifted. Neil immediately wrapped his legs around Kevin’s waist and balanced himself with his hands on Kevin’s shoulders. It was a familiar position for them, and Kevin’s absolute favourite. It gave him all the leverage to push Neil into the wall and kiss him senseless.

Neil groaned into his mouth when Kevin started to grind his hips against Neil’s. He could feel the hardness of him with lewd clarity.

“Bed?” He asked, moving to mouth against Neil’s jaw.

Neil made a small sound of pleasure and nodded.

Kevin didn’t bother to set him down so they could walk from their living room to the bedroom. Instead, he merely turned around, hands holding Neil securely under his ass, and carried him there.

Neil grinned at him, turned on by the callous display of strength. It was his greatest weakness, when it came to his boys. Andrew’s thick muscles, perfectly sculpted and incredibly strong, able to push him around and manhandle him effortlessly. And Kevin’s overwhelming height and the surprising strength in his lithe frame, able to carry him around to his heart’s content with ease.

Kevin dumped him on the bed unceremoniously, and he yelped in surprise as he bounced. Kevin wasted no time in tugging off his shirt, and Neil abandoned his glare in favour of staring hungrily at the rippling muscles of Kevin’s abdomen. There wasn’t a shred of fat on him, he was made entirely of muscle. Neil had never been so thankful for his overzealous exy practices when these were the results they yielded.

“Shirt off?” Kevin asked him, fiddling with the waistband of his own shorts. Their questions were different to Neil and Andrew’s ‘yes and no’s’ but no less clear, no less important.

Neil took a moment to consider, evaluating the comfort he felt in his skin and the safety he felt with Kevin, before he nodded. His hands moved to the hem of his shirt, but Kevin stopped him before he could pull it off.

“Let me,” Kevin said. He was incredibly gentle when he tugged Neil’s shirt over his head. He knelt at the end of the bed to take in his mottled, scarred skin, eyes feasting over the expanse of it.

It had been years since the first time Kevin had seen all his scars, but Neil couldn’t help but feel vulnerable like this.

“You’re so beautiful,” Kevin muttered, before leaning forward and pressing a kiss to Neil’s chest, right over his heart and the worst of his knife scars. All at once, the vulnerability turned to something else, a warm, simmering feeling that crowded his chest. He felt safe, thoughts of fear and pain and harm far from his mind. He felt wanted, appreciated, treasured. Loved.

Kevin spent long moments worshipping his scars, running his tongue along the textured gravel marks and pressing kisses to the long slashes and bullet wounds. “Perfect,” he kissed into scarred skin. “You’re so beautiful, Neil.”

Neil almost purred in delight and fisted his hands in Kevin’s hair to yank his head back and kiss him. Kevin surged up and Neil found himself being pushed up the bed as Kevin simply dragged him to his preferred position. He settled Neil with his head on the pillow, pulling Neil’s legs around his waist.

The time Kevin had spent lavishing attention on his scars had paid off, as Neil felt only arousal suffuse through him. He pulled Kevin down with needy hands until he could kiss him again.

“Are you ready?” Kevin asked against his lips.

Neil nodded.

“Are you sure?”

Neil pulled away so that he could look into Kevin’s eyes. “Yes,” he told him, with utter conviction. Any doubt left in Kevin’s mind was shattered with that.

The handcuffs were in the bedside table, along with their half empty bottle of lube and a box of condoms. They weren’t the same pair Roland had given Andrew years ago, but they were similar. They were leather cuffs padded with a thick, soft material, and connected with a thin metal chain that was attached with a clip on either end. They were sturdy enough to pull against, but flimsy enough that Neil could break them apart if he really, really wanted to. The padding would ensure that his wrists wouldn’t chafe or bruise, no matter how much he tugged on them, and the clips ensured that if he panicked he could be quickly released by simply unlinking the cuffs.

Neil had tried them on, by himself and with Andrew’s supervision. They had experimented with his reaction to them, how he felt being tied to things or just restrained. He could only stand it on good days and when he really, really wanted it. It wasn’t often.

“Safe word?” Kevin asked, as he held the cuffs in his hands and looked up at Neil.

“Brooklyn.”

“Colours?”

“Red for stop, yellow for pause, green for good.”

Kevin offered him a smile, and Neil leant up to press a kiss to his lips.

Kevin wrapped the first cuff around his wrist, and tightened it until Neil told him to stop— just enough pressure to be felt, but not enough to feel suffocating. He did the same to the next wrist, and then met Neil’s eyes.

“Headboard?” He asked.

Neil closed his eyes and deliberated. Andrew had taught him how to identify which feelings were likely to spiral into panic or worse, how a tightness in his chest could be the first signs of a panic attack, or a lightness in his head could be the first signs of dissociation, and how to deal with them before it became a problem. Right now, Neil felt nothing but desire and impatience, and he wanted nothing more than to have Kevin’s hands and lips on him, taking him apart. Being tied to the headboard, his hands kept out of the way of Kevin’s ministrations, and being able to do nothing more than lie there and feel everything without needing to worry or think or fear was everything Neil wanted.

“Yes,” he said.

He let Kevin take his bound hands, kissing each with a surprising softness, and draw them above his head. Neil gripped the bars of the headboard and watched as Kevin looped the length of chain between two bars and reattached it to the cuff. Neil gave an experimental tug, testing the give of the chain, which was long enough for him to bend his arms a little. He was satisfied that it was secure, and he was comfortable with the range of mobility he was granted.

“Colour?” Kevin asked.

“Green,” Neil said. “Kiss me.”

 Kevin did as he was told, kissing Neil gently and pressing his weight firmly against him. Neil angled his hips upward, tightening his legs around Kevin’s waist to grind his erection against Kevin’s. Kevin growled into his mouth and dropped his hands to Neil’s waist to control the movement of his hips, slowing it down to a slow rocking that was driving Neil mad.

“Harder,” Neil groaned. “Kevin—”

“Shhh, let me take care of you,” Kevin soothed, trailing kisses down to his jaw.

Neil whined and pulled at his restraints, desperate to get his hands on Kevin and speed things along. He couldn’t, though. His hands were tied. The thought made heat pool in his belly, made his cock twitch in a surge of arousal. He was helpless under Kevin, and Kevin was going to give him what he needed.

“Please,” Neil gasped.

“Tell me what you want, .”

“Touch me.”

Kevin smirked. “I am touching you.”

Neil whined and bucked his hips, or tried to, as Kevin’s unrelenting grip barely let him twitch.

“Kevin, _please_.”

“Ok pretty boy, let me give you what you need.”

Kevin moved down the bed, trailing kisses down Neil’s abdomen until he hovered over his crotch. His hot breath ghosted along Neil’s straining flesh, teasing his leaking cock. He kissed the tip, his tongue darting out to taste the drop of liquid pooling there, and Neil keened.

“Let me hear you, baby boy,” Kevin said. Then, he relaxed his throat and took Neil all the way down.

The sound Neil made was obscene, absolutely wrecked, but he had no thoughts to spare for shame when his dick was all the way down Kevin’s warm, eager throat. His hips thrust up minutely, automatic reactions to the stimulus, but Kevin kept him firmly pressed against the bed with an unyielding hand on his stomach, soothing him with soft circles of his thumb as he began to bob his head up and down.

Kevin sucked dick like he played exy— with his whole entire being focused on his task, with a frankly startling amount of skill, and like it was the only thing in the world that matteredHe knew every trick in the book to coaxing moans and keens out of Neil, a product of countless hours spent dedicated to the task. He knew how much suction was too much, how much was not enough, he knew how fast he liked it, how he hated the scrape of teeth but loved the tight pressure of Kevin’s throat when he swallowed around him. Kevin knew how to tease him for hours, dangling Neil on the edge of release, and how to suck him off hard and fast and efficient. He knew how to dig his tongue into the slit, how to tease away at the sensitive head, lapping at the tangy pre-come, a taste which Kevin had frankly come to love, and how to trace his tongue along the prominent vein along the side that was so deliciously sensitive. He relished the weight of Neil in his mouth, groaning around the hot flesh and humming just to watch Neil sob.

 

Between Andrew’s innate skill and Kevin’s practised mastery, Neil was on the receiving end of better blow jobs than any one human being should be so lucky to have once in their lifetime. He was utterly spoiled for anything else, honestly.

“Let me hear you moan for me baby, wanna know how good it feels,” Kevin mumbled against his cock. Almost to tease, his other hand came up to gently cup Neil’s balls, massaging them in his hands with an attentive reverence, grinning as Neil made an inarticulate sound.

“Feels so good, _Kevin—_ fuck, fuck.”

Kevin took the head of his dick into his mouth and _hummed._ Neil yanked on his restraints as his back arched off the bed, his hips still pressed down by Kevin’s hand, in an exquisite contortion that made every muscle ripple along his scarred abdomen. Kevin appreciated it accordingly.

“You’re so perfect Neil, look at you. I fucking love the way you taste.”

Neil slumped back onto the bed, his head lolling from side to side, his arms still flexing against the cuffs. “More, more Kevin _please_ , I need more,” he begged.

“I’ve got you baby, what do you need?”

“Fuck me.”

Kevin chuckled, pausing before he responded to press a kiss to Neil’s hip. “You sure? You seem to be enjoying this.”

“ _Kevin_ ,” Neil whined.

“How about this: I’ll suck you and finger you until you come, and then I’ll fuck you. You think you can do that for me, baby?”

Neil nodded, his eyes meeting Kevin’s. “Yes. Fuck yes.”

Kevin smiled, pressing another kiss to his hip before sitting up. “Colour?” he asked. Neil started to make sounds of protest at his movement, before Kevin shushed him and showed him he was merely reaching across the bed for the lube sitting on the drawer. Neil got so needy when he was worked up.

“I’m green. I’m green, Kevin please.”

“Ok baby. Fuck, you’re so needy,” he said it softly, taking a moment before he moved back down between Neil’s legs to stroke his cheek and press a kiss to his lips. “I love it.”

“You just love taking care of me,” Neil said.

“I do.” Kevin kissed him again. “I love seeing you like this. I love how much you want it, and how I’m the only one who gets to give it to you.”

Neil smirked. “Now who’s needy?” He said.

That snark was abandoned when Kevin took him back into his mouth, and sucked him hard and relentlessly until Neil was an incoherent mess. He drew Neil’s legs up over his shoulders, and lodged a pillow under his hips to elevate his ass for easier access, before lubing up his fingers and tracing Neil’s entrance. He felt it flutter under his touch, Neil automatically tensing at the foreign sensation.

“Relax for me, baby,” Kevin soothed. “Let me take care of you. Let me in.”

Neil moaned, and as Kevin swallowed around him, milking his length, he relaxed enough for Kevin to edge that first finger inside. It was always strange at first, no matter how many times they’d done this before, and as such it took a moment for Neil to recover from the initial shock of the stretch and allow his body to recognise the stimulus as pleasurable. As always, Kevin gave him that time, simply allowing his finger to rest delicately inside Neil, careful not to jostle or push him past his limits, while he focused on working Neil’s cock and bringing him back to that pleasurable haze. It didn’t take long.

“I’m good,” Neil gasped, the links of the cuffs clanging against the headboard as he readjusted his grip on them. “You can move.”

Kevin complied and began to gently push further inside. He stopped every so often, giving Neil time to adjust, and never once relented on sucking his cock, until finally he was in all the way to the last knuckle. Neil let out a loud whine.

“Colour?” Kevin asked, immediately concerned.

“Give me a sec,” Neil said.

“I need a colour Neil. If you can’t give me a colour, I’m going to stop.” He didn’t mean to sound so stern, he just couldn’t compromise on something like this. If he thought for even a second that Neil wasn’t ok, then he wasn’t going to continue.

“Green. It’s green,” Neil insisted, voice a little stronger now. “It’s just— it’s so much.”

Kevin smiled, realising that Neil’s response hadn’t been in pain or fear, but because he was simply overwhelmed. “Good or bad?”

“So fucking good,” Neil keened. “Don’t stop Kev, please.”

Kevin worked him up to two fingers slowly, teasing his prostate every couple of thrusts just to keep him moaning. Between Kevin sucking his dick and fingering him, Neil sounded like he was seconds away from losing it. Kevin wanted that, he wanted to watch Neil fall apart, crying out and contorting in the sheets as climax hit him, but he wanted him to work for it first. He wouldn’t let Neil come until he was satisfied that he was ready for it.

He drew away whenever he felt Neil tensing beneath him, waiting until his desperate sobs had died down before taking him in his mouth again. He moved the hand on his hips down to grip the base of his dick, hard, stifling any impending orgasm almost cruelly. Neil certainly seemed to think so.

He begged, a lot. He couldn’t do it so much when Andrew was around, certainly not in the base and primal way he was begging now, so he made up for it when he could. The word please had never sounded so pretty than when it was sobbed on Neil’s lips.

Kevin was achingly hard in his own pants but didn’t spare a moment to touch himself, because doing so would mean taking his fingers out of Neil’s ass or off his dick, and Kevin couldn’t bring himself to do either. Listening to Neil’s cries was more than enough, the salty taste of him and the weight of his hard cock in his mouth was enough, the fluttering of his passage and the keens he emitted when Kevin teased his prostate was enough. Given enough time, Kevin was almost certain he could rub himself off against the sheets like this and be more than satisfied, but Neil was on his last thread, and Kevin wasn’t going to make him wait any longer.

“You ready to come for me, Neil?”

“Yes— yes fuck— fuck, please, please, please, Kevin—”

“You’ve been such a good boy for me, Neil. When I take my hand away I want you to come, do you understand?”

“Yes— please Kevin, _please_.”

Kevin released the tight hold of his dick and pulled him back into his mouth, down to the very base, choking himself on Neil’s hot flesh, at the same moment he dug his fingers into Neil’s prostate. The result was instantaneous. Neil started coming almost as soon as Kevin released him, and his orgasm was drawn out by the exquisite stimulation of Kevin’s mouth around him and the grinding pressure against his prostate. He came so hard, shouting so loudly that his voice gave out, and tears trickled down his eyes. His back arched off the bed, his hands jerked wildly at his restraints, his thighs clamped around Kevin’s head and _shook._

He was utterly and totally consumed by the force of his orgasm, and it was incredible to watch. Kevin could only marvel at it as he swallowed around the hot cum pouring down his throat, not letting a single drop escape from his lips. The taste was incredible.

When Neil finally calmed down, falling limp against the bed like a puppet from severed strings, Kevin released him. He gently withdrew the fingers inside him, noting how Neil was too far gone to even twitch at the loss, and wiped his hand off on the sheets. He moved up the bed, lying on his side beside Neil, stroking the sweaty strands of hair from his forehead. Neil’s eyes were closed and his breath was ragged, but the look on his face was one of utter bliss. He was so beautiful like this, so fucking beautiful. Kevin had never loved anything so badly.

“Neil, you with me?” He asked.

Neil’s eyes fluttered open, wet with his recent tears. He smiled up at Kevin, huffing out a quiet breath. “Yeah,” he said. “’I’m with you.”

Kevin wiped the lingering drops of tears from his eyes, and leant down to kiss him. It was sweet and soft and tender, in contrast to the hard passion of moments ago. It was everything Neil needed, and he shuddered under the ministrations.

“Do you want me to untie you?” Kevin asked when he drew away.

“No,” Neil said. “You still have to fuck me, remember?”

“We don’t have to. You look exhausted, I don’t want to push you.”

Neil rolled his eyes, the idiot. “I want it, Kevin. I want you to fuck me hard while I’m bound like this. I love feeling so helpless under you. I love how safe it feels.”

Apparently orgasms made Neil Josten honest Kevin kissed the idiot into silence, before he said something he wasn’t ready to admit.

“Colour?” he asked.

“So goddamn fucking green,” Neil said.

Kevin snorted, pulling back and giving Neil an incredulous look.

“Are you going to fuck me before your dick goes soft?” Neil asked.

Kevin shut him up with another kiss, not dignifying that with a response, and rolled on top of Neil to show him just how hard he still was. He smirked at the intake of breath, at the way Neil’s hips rolled up into his, pressing himself against Kevin’s aching length. After so long without any stimulation, it felt incredible.

“I’m going to fuck you,” Kevin said. “I want you screaming for me.”

“We’ll see about that,” Neil goaded, quirking his eyebrows in challenge.

In the end, he did scream, loudly and quite often, as Kevin took him apart for a second time that evening. The both of them were consumed in each other, on Kevin’s hard cock ploughing Neil mercilessly while the bed banged against the wall and Neil’s cuffs scraped against the metal headboard. Kevin’s cock dragged deliberately against his prostate with every thrust, wringing more pleasure where Neil had been certain he was spent.

Neil pulled shamelessly at the cuffs, desperate to get his hands on Kevin, desperate to bring them even closer, but frustratingly impeded. It drove him slowly and thoroughly insane, until finally he came, untouched, screaming beautifully and sobbing Kevin’s name, his fluttering passage milking Kevin’s own orgasm from him.

They didn’t notice Andrew had come in until after they had come back to themselves, a rather embarrassingly long amount of time later.

“I leave you alone for five minutes,” Andrew said, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. His attempt to look unimpressed was rather ruined by the obvious tenting of his erection in his pants.

“Andrew,” Neil said, his whole face lighting up as he looked at him.

Kevin gingerly rolled off Neil. “Would you like us to take care of that for you?” He gestured to Andrew’s erection.

Andrew’s eyes narrowed dangerously. He strolled over, stopping before Kevin’s prone body, waiting and watching until Kevin got the hint and sat up. When he did, Andrew fisted hands in his hair and wrenched it back, ripping a groan from Kevin whose entire body responded to the touch. His dick twitched, still half hard.

“Naughty Kevin,” he said, his voice a low growl. “Did no one ever teach you to watch your mouth?”

Kevin’s eyes flashed with heat. “Maybe I need a refresher.”

Andrew watched him with that stony glare for a moment longer, before releasing him. He stepped back, walked away. Neil watched the exchange with mounting confusion.

“Andrew?” he asked.

Andrew looked at him, taking him briefly in, his bound wrists and dishevelled hair and come streaked torso and parted legs. Neil thought he heard a deep exhale of breath.

“Clean him up,” he said to Kevin. “Do it right.”

Then, he went to the bathroom, shutting and locking the door behind him. Neil imagined he would be taking care of his arousal himself, and was rather disappointed, though he understood why. They’d had this conversation before, about the things Andrew could not be a part of. It wasn’t the physical restraints so much as it was the freedom. He could never be as loose with Andrew as he was with Kevin, there were words he could not say and things he could not do, ways he had to remain in control for both of their sakes. It wasn’t like that with Kevin. He could scream and cry and beg to his heart’s content, and Kevin only ever wanted more. It was one of their differences, one of many, a simple truth that lived with them always. It wasn’t bad, Neil didn’t mind, he wanted Andrew in the ways he could have him. It was a small and easy thing to sacrifice for him.

He looked at Kevin, who was still sitting on the bed, staring listlessly at the bathroom door. “You ok?” he asked, trying to sit up as much as the cuffs allowed. He was itching to be out of them, now. He was hyperconscious of where they bound his skin.

Kevin looked at him. “Yeah,” he said, expression softening. “Let’s get you cleaned up pretty boy.”

Neil made a face at the name, but gratefully allowed Kevin to unbind him. He felt weak and boneless, utterly ruined from the pleasurable bliss of his two orgasms. He wanted nothing more but to sink into the bed and sleep, but Kevin had other ideas. He kissed Neil softly and wiped up his come with the wet wipes they kept in the bedside drawer. He cleaned his cock and thighs and the lube leaking out of his ass, pressing more kisses into the skin once it was clean. At another time, Neil might have thought the gesture a prelude to another round, but he knew the action wasn’t born of lust or renewed arousal, but in an almost kind of apology, a reverence that Kevin couldn’t name, but could show. He massaged coconut lotion into Neil’s wrists, rubbed a little red from the force with which he had jerked against the cuffs. It was hardly necessary, but it was an important part of the ritual for them. Neil needed to know he was being taken care of, that the restraint from before would always give way to love and care. And Kevin needed to know that Neil wasn’t hurt, that he was ok, that he was being taken care of.

Andrew came back in as they were finishing, and watched Kevin finish massaging Neil’s wrists with a kind of detached interest.

“You all good?” Neil asked, looking at him.

Andrew’s eyes met his unflinchingly, as they always did. He inclined his head. “I’m going for a smoke,” he said.

Kevin made a face, the only way he was allowed to voice his displeasure at the unhealthy habit. Neil merely nodded. Normally he joined him, but tonight he was far too tired. Orgasms did that to a person.

“Ok,” Neil said.

Andrew looked like he wanted to roll his eyes, but instead he walked over, leaning over Neil who craned his neck to meet his eyes.

“Yes?” Neil asked, because it looked like Andrew wasn’t going to say anything. Andrew responded by closing the distance and pressing a searing, biting kiss against Neil’s lips. Neil was surprised, he had expected something brief, but he responded with a joyful eagerness to Andrew’s possessive, demanding kiss. His lips felt raw when he pulled away.

“What was that for?” He asked.

Andrew regarded him for a moment. “The things I cannot do for you.”

“You know I’d never want more than you can give.”

Andrew’s face was devoid of expression, but Neil felt fingers gently touch his chin, running down his throat. “I know,” he said. “Idiot.”

Neil didn’t bother to suppress his grin and the huff of breath that left him in shape of a laugh. Andrew rolled his eyes as he straightened and turned away, though his fingertips only left Neil’s skin when distance forced them to.

He stopped in front of Kevin, who did not have to crane his neck half so high to meet Andrew’s eyes. Neil thought he was going to grab his hair again, but instead a hand closed around Kevin’s neck, the grip loose but hard enough to be felt.

“Thank you,” Andrew said. Neil’s mouth dropped open.

Kevin himself seemed to be surprised. “It’s nothing you have to thank me for,” he said.

Andrew had no response to this, so instead pressed a kiss to Kevin’s forehead. Kevin closed his eyes and leant into it.

When Andrew was gone, Neil and Kevin curled up on the bed together, limbs entangled, buried beneath a pile of soft cotton sheets. Neil pillowed his head on Kevin’s broader chest, and sighed as he was held closely.

“My ass is gonna be sore tomorrow,” he said.

“No skipping practice. You already missed half a day last week.”

Neil hummed. “That’s because I’d had both your dicks in my ass the night before.”

Kevin scoffed. “Drama queen.”

“I’d laugh at the irony of that if I wasn’t about to pass out.”

“Idiot, go to sleep.”

Neil gave up on the fight to keep his eyelids open, and allowed them to close with a deep sigh, his hands curling protectively over Kevin’s chest.

“I love you,” he said, because he was too tired and in too much bliss to care if the words were rare exceptions, seldom leaving his lips.

Kevin didn’t seem to mind. “I love you, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to clarify: Andrew doesn’t mind that Kevin and Neil get frisky without him, he understands that sometimes Neil needs to scream and beg and just express himself mindlessly, and obviously Andrew isn’t comfortable with that. He doesn’t mind that they do it together, as long as Kevin takes extra special care of him afterwards, because Neil still has his issues. Him finishing in the bathroom and leaving after isn’t a sign of him being distressed or unhappy or triggered or anything negative, so please don’t think that. This is a very happy arrangement for all parties.
> 
> tumblr: http://exyking.tumblr.com/


	8. Only Fools | Andreil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andrew gets an emergency call from Kevin, and he's not particularly happy about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick lil prompt for some hurt/sick Neil 
> 
> Tags:  
> Hurt/comfort, sick!Neil, protective Andrew,

Andrew didn’t wait long enough retrieve his luggage. He was out of the terminal and making his way to the airport carpark in a handful of seconds.

“What happened?” He demanded as he made his way through the crowds, shoving and pushing people aside where he had to.

“I don’t know,” Kevin said. “We were at practice and he just collapsed. He’s in surgery now.”

“ _What_?”

He could almost hear Kevin’s wince over the line. “I rode with him in the ambulance, but I’m not family or his emergency contact, so they won’t tell me anything.”

Andrew finally reached the car. He climbed in and jammed the key into the ignition, revving the engine and peeling away before he’d even bothered shutting the door.

“Where?”

“State hospital.”

Andrew hung up, throwing his phone onto the passenger seat to focus on tearing recklessly through the quiet, late night roads. Fortunately, despite the fact that he was breaking just about every road law in existence, no one stopped him.

He arrived at the hospital twenty minutes later, and barely waited long enough to lock the car before he was making his way into the building. He caught sight of Kevin almost immediately, sitting on the waiting chairs by reception with his face propped up on his hands. He looked up when Andrew’s shadow fell over him.

“Andrew—”

“What the fuck happened?”

Kevin’s brow furrowed. “He collapsed halfway through practice. He was holding his stomach, he was barely conscious. I’ve never seen him like that. Not even after…” He cut himself off, rubbing his face and biting out a frustrated sigh. The implication of _Baltimore_ didn’t go unnoticed.

Andrew spun on his heel and went over to the reception desk. The nurse working there looked up with a pleasant smile at him, one that abruptly faltered when she caught sight of his expression.

“Hello sir, how may I—”

“Neil Josten, is he still in surgery?”

The woman hesitated for half a moment, before turning to her computer and typing away. “May I ask who is enquiring?”

“I’m Andrew Minyard, his emergency contact.”

She frowned, turning back to her device. “I’m sorry sir, there’s no mention of any emergency contact.”

Andrew froze. “What?”

She started to get flustered, clicking away at her keyboard furiously. “As I said, sir, there’s no—”

“Just— Where the fuck is he?”

“I’m sorry sir, only direct family members are privy to personal information about the patient’s…”

Andrew’s fist slammed down onto the counter, making everyone in the vicinity jump violently. Andrew saw red, his world narrowed down to a single thought: Neil was hurt, vulnerable, at the mercy of god knows who, and Andrew wasn’t even allowed to know where he was because of some stupid fuck up in the system?

Someone was about to get hurt.

“Andrew,” Kevin was suddenly at his side. “Andrew, come with me before they throw us out.”

Andrew blinked, took in the way the nurses’ hand was inching subtly under her desk for the panic button, how the other people milling about in the waiting room were staring at him. He felt Kevin’s finger brush his armband, and jerked away.

He walked out, because he couldn’t stand being there any longer. The clean stench, the white walls, all of it reminded him too much of places he had spent too long trying to forget, the helplessness he felt exacerbated by the lingering memory of it. Kevin followed him out.

“What do we do?” He said, always turning to Andrew for answers.

“If they won’t tell us where he is, we find him ourselves.”

Kevin nodded, unhesitating, not for a second questioning Andrew’s resolve. “How?”

“I need to see that computer.”

Kevin’s expression turned thoughtful, calculating, his mind formulating a plan. “You need a distraction,” he said. “I have an idea.”

 

***

 

“Help! I’ve been fucking stabbed!”

There were screams and shouts, people hurrying to get out of the way, as a man fell to his knees in the middle of the waiting room floor, clutching his bleeding arm, dripping everywhere.

The nurse at the desk hurried over, paging for assistance as she went to her knees beside him.

“Please, give us some room!” She called to the fearful crowd. “Everybody back!”

In the noise and commotion, no one noticed the small blond man slip around the crowd, making his way quickly to the now unmanned desk. Kneeling below counter level, he quickly typed away at the keyboard, opening the page bearing the name ‘Neil Josten’ and taking in the patient information with a quick eye, committing every detail to memory.

_Room 243, level 5._

He was gone before anyone had even noticed he was there.

 

***

 

When Neil opened his eyes, the world spun.

The first thought to enter his mind was _run._

The last thing he could remember was practice with Kevin. He remembered ignoring the burning ache in his gut and the fever that had been building since Andrew left that afternoon, because the season started in two weeks and their first game was against Edgar Allen and _they had to win_ before… nothing. Now: white walls, panelled ceiling, the beeping of a monitor to his right. Silence; deafening, stifling. And numbness, that worst of all.

He felt woozy and unbalanced, when he tried to move the world spun more viciously. His limbs felt heavy, just lifting his hands was nearly too much. He saw the IV going down into his wrist, saw the clear fluid sidling down into his veins. It made his skin crawl. He recognised the symptoms of morphine.

All he knew was that he was in a hospital, and he didn’t know why.

He tried to sit up, and gasped as pain cut through the haze of morphine and ignited a fire in his gut. He looked down, world tilting precariously, and saw the bandages wrapped around his torso. What…

“I wouldn’t, if I were you.”

Neil jumped, and grunted as the violent motion pulled at his wound.

He hadn’t noticed the other man in the room.

Andrew was sitting on the arm chair beside the bed, tucked into the small space between the wall and the monitor. He was watching Neil silently, his face utterly blank, eyes devoid of any discernible emotion. He was so still, it didn’t even look like he was breathing.

“Andrew…”

“You’re a stupid son of a bitch, Josten.”

Neil winced, turned away.

“Nothing to say in your defence?”

If Neil didn’t know any better, he could have sworn that Andrew sounded… _angry._ There was a hardness to his tone that Neil had heard before, but never turned on him, not in the way it was now.

“I didn’t think it was a big deal.”

Andrew scoffed, a cruel exhalation of breath. “Because you’re fine, right?” His voice was dangerously quiet.

“You can be angry at me in a minute, but right now I need you to get this thing out of me.” He gestured half heartedly at his wrist, where the IV sat beneath his skin, dripping numbness into his veins.

Andrew didn’t say a word as he got to his feet and moved to Neil’s side. “This is going to hurt,” he said. He peeled back the tape keeping the IV secure, and with a single glance up at Neil’s face, tugged the needle out of his skin.

Neil winced, the sting was harsh, but it faded quickly into a dull, bruise like ache. A bead of blood pooled at the place where his skin had been punctured. Andrew silently wiped it away with a cotton ball Neil hadn’t seen him take, before covering the wound with a plaster.

“That’s going to start hurting real soon,” Andrew said with a flippant gesture to the white bandages covering Neil’s stomach.

Neil was happy to take the pain over the hell that was a morphine haze.

“I don’t appreciate having to cancel flights last minute because you’re stupid enough to try to play exy with a ruptured appendix,” Andrew said then.

Neil winced.

“I didn’t think it was that bad.”

Andrew’s jaw set, his nostrils flared the slightest amount, his eyes pinned Neil to the bed with a vicious, burning stare. “This isn’t something that just comes out of nowhere, Josten,” he said, his voice like shards of ice.

Neil turned away, his head pounding. He could feel the first twinges of pain start to lance across his stomach, and steeled himself against it. He needed to get through this first.

“No, it isn’t,” he said.

Andrew didn’t seem impressed with his honesty. “How long?”

“Three days, maybe. It only got bad today.”

Andrew’s fists twitched. For the first time in longer than Neil could recall, a scowl etched itself into the handsome lines of his face. “You fucking idiot,” he said.

Neil didn’t protest that.

“Care to explain why Kevin was the one who had to call and tell me that your idiotic, stupid ass was in surgery instead of, I don’t know, the hospital?”

“What do you mean?”

Andrew’s scowl deepened. “Why am I not on your emergency contact list?”

Oh. _Oh._

Neil attempted a self-deprecating smile, something to diffuse the tangible tension between them, but Andrew growled, actually _growled_ at him. “I, uh, must have forgot to update it. I didn’t think it was a big…”

He wisely cut himself off, as Andrew’s upper lip curled into something vicious.

“Did you… Did you put me as yours?”

Andrew’s eyes narrowed, before he rolled them. “Of course I fucking did.”

Neil’s eyes widened. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise to him, they were partners after all, but somehow Neil still hadn’t expected it. It seemed so… official. It was a piece of this thing they shared put to proof on paper, undeniable. It was Andrew saying that he needed him, wanted him, before anyone else.

Neil opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out.

“This will never happen again. I will kill you myself, understand?”

 Neil blinked, closed his mouth. “Ok,” he said. “Ok.”

“Ichirou is gonna be more pissed if you’re out because your own stupidity put you there. Cut the noble bullshit, Abram. And update your fucking emergency contact list.”

Neil huffed a laugh, despite the pain, despite the guilt, despite the niggling vestiges of fear that lingered in hospitals and incapacitation. Andrew was here, despite everything, Andrew was here. When Neil had needed him, wanted him, before anyone else, he was here.

“Yes or no?” He said.

Andrew rolled his eyes, but he leant forward anyway, pressing a kiss to Neil’s waiting lips. It lingered for a long, perfect moment, before Andrew pulled away. In a gesture that seized Neil’s heart, he brushed a stray strand of hair out of Neil’s face.

“What, were you worried?” Neil teased, then, face splitting into a shit-eating grin.

Andrew looked like he was considering the consequences of strangling him to death.

“Shut the fuck up, Abram,” he snarled, and he kissed Neil again.

The door opened then, and several nurses and security guards came bursting in. Without a moment of hesitation, Andrew immediately put himself between them and Neil, hands dropping to his sleeves where his knives were concealed.

The intruders hesitated at the sight of the small blond bodily shielding the man on the bed.

“We apologise sir, but this man—”

“It’s fine, it’s fine!” Neil said, grabbing the back of Andrew’s shirt with a weak grip and trying to tug him back from harm’s way. “It’s ok, I want him here. It’s fine.”

Andrew didn’t say anything. Neil couldn’t see his face, but if he had to hazard a guess, he’d say his expression would be chillingly blank. The way the security guards were shifting uncomfortably before them seemed to confirm this.

“Alright, well, if you need anything, sir…” One of the nurses looked between them, clearly torn. Eventually though, she nodded, and then they were leaving.

When the room was empty again, Neil slumped back into his pillows, exhausted. He was in pain, groggy and tired. “Tell me you didn’t break into the hospital,” he said with a groan. He could do nothing but chuckle weakly when Andrew’s silence confirmed his suspicions. “Of course you did.”

Andrew turned back to him, tension deflating in a rush, lifting an eyebrow as though daring Neil to challenge him. When Neil didn’t, he pulled the arm chair closer to the bedside, and sat back down in it.

“Sleep, Abram,” he said. Then, he took Neil’s hand in his. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Neil wanted to protest— the last thing he wanted to do was sleep in a hospital of all places— but Andrew was here, by his side, watching over him. He trusted Andrew to make sure nothing happened to him, enough that when sleep started to creep up on him, he sunk into it with gratitude.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> find me on tumblr @[exyking](http://exyking.tumblr.com)


End file.
